Icarus
by Epsilion
Summary: When Kankuro thinks that his life couldn't get any more boring, war breaks out between Suna and the surrounding Rogue clan. When Akemi Nakahara, the enemy's oldest daughter, is captured in battle, can Kankuro's boring life turn extraordinary? KankuroxOC ((Off of hiatus! Give me a reason to write more!))
1. Shifting Sands

The dunes were continuously to moving forward, grains of sand shifting and spinning in the hot desert wind. The same thing happened every day. The sun would rise, the sands would shift, the sun would set, the sands would shift. There was never a dune in the same place that was the same size as the one before it.

It would piss Kankuro off to no extent.

All the puppet master wanted in his life was a little stability; a foundation. A little piece of knowledge that would let him know that there was something constant and strong in his life that would keep him afloat amidst the ever changing desert sand.

Yes, Temari and Gaara would always be there for him when he needed it. Yes, his village loved him and appreciated everything he does to help them. Of course, there was always the fact that he was the commanding general of the entire Suna ninja force with the help of big sister Temari, the ever skilled tactition. A mostly cushy job, one where everyone listened to him and trusted him. It wasn't such a shabby pay day every week either.

Kankuro didn't have to do much at all with his job. Temari, the overbearing hound, would do most of his desk work in his stead since "men can't do a woman's job effectively." How organizing a battle plan, separating ninja into squadrons and picking new candidates for chunnin exams and such was a woman's job, Kankuro hadn't a clue, but he honestly couldn't be bothered. And the best part of it all? Kankuro didn't have to leave his chair until a war broke out which the puppeteer didn't seem to see in the near future. After the conclusion of the Fourth Great Ninja war last year, all he had to do was sit around and drink his life away. What a way to live.

Where did all the excitement go? Ever since Gaara had become Kazekage, everything seemed to slow down and Kankuro's life had gone down the shitter in return. The long time adrenaline junky puppeteer didn't have any missions to go on or girls to court. He didn't have a gennin team that he could boss around or academy children to teach. His life consisted of sitting at a desk, signing bits of shriveled up paper and looking out the window at the shifting dunes.

Maybe stability wasn't something he needed in his life after all. Maybe it was just the opposite.

"Get up off your damn ass, you lazy baka! We have work to do!"

Temari's voice came rolling ever so loudly into his ears as a pillow came down on his head with enough monstrous force to rival Hokage-hime, Tsunade. Kankuro didn't even bother to cover up. It was the same thing every morning. One man's pain is same man's cue to wake up every morning.

Seeing no response in her brother, Temari growled and lifted her younger brother up by his shirt collar. The puppeteer glared into her sister's own beady eyes, his hair in disarray. "I don't want to."

Temari gave a sinister look. "What."

Kankuro cleared his throat and shoved her off, brushing his fingers through his hair and shaking it out gently. "I. Don't. Want. To. What isn't to understand Temari, huh?"

Bam. Another pillow to the face, this time, causing his head to spin to the side with a hell of a whip lash to tag along with it.

"What's not to understand? Kankuro, you haven't gotten up before eleven o'clock for the past month. You drink enough to rival Tsunade-sama's alcoholism, for Kami's sake! When was the last time you even touched one of your puppets? Karasu, Kuroari, and Sanshouo must miss their master terribly." Temari's voice shivered with rage. "It's time to recheck your priorities."

Kankuro rubbed his face, purple smearing across his fingers. Crap. He had forgotten to take his paint off last night. He was pretty surprised that his favorite call girl didn't take it off for him when they were playing around. He didn't know that she liked a man in war paint. Maybe he should do it more often. "Priorities? What priorities Tema? Tell me what I have to live for. You're the oldest, the wisest. TELL me because I sure as fuck can't figure it out."

The statement struck Temari like a steel rod. Priorities? What her brother had to live for? She bit the bottom of her lip inside her mouth and sighed hotly. She couldn't keep telling him the same thing over and over again about how he owed his brother and his village for their constant support and it was his duty to help them in any way possible. No, Kankuro was too smart to fall for the same thing over and over again. She may be able to pull that stunt over some chunin and some lower rank jonin, but not her little brother.

"I don't know Kankuro, but you better _find_ some quickly. Maybe a girlfriend? Those usually straighten people out pretty quickly," Temari smirked into her fingers.

Kankuro sighed in return. How many times had he heard this conversation? "I don't need a girlfriend."

He sure as hell didn't. The man could care for himself. He could barely deal with Temari half the time and if half of the girls in this damn village were as bad as his sister, Kankuro was in a heap of trouble. He'd make _sure _he'd die alone before he married one of them.

Temari shrugged her shoulders and her heels clicked against the floor as she started out of the room. "Well, now that you're up and in such a chipper mood Kankuro, it's time to sign some papers. Yay!"

The puppet master groaned and flopped back down onto his bed, his large hand covering his eyes from the sun through the balcony of his room. "Oh, your sarcasm is just riveting in the morning, Temari."

The door clicked closed behind her with a satisfying smirk to go along with it. Kankuro stared at the handle, his beady eyes glaring darts through the wooden handle. "Bitch."

Fully dressed, cleaned, and repainted in his traditional kabuki style, Kankuro yawned as he stepped into his office. The ever present sun shone eerily onto his cherry desk, heating it enough to char the wood. The sight of a stack of paper his own height made the twenty two year old groan in disgust. Big shot Gaara seemed to be just as pissed as Temari at this point if he was throwing this many missions onto his desk. Usually, his little brother would give him a quarter of the work and Temari would just end up doing it for him just because he was slow.

It seemed he would be on his own for the day.

Plopping down in his chair, Kankuro picked up a brush and ink, quickly signing away at a few genin missions. D ranks seemed to be more exciting at this point then his job was. He would rather catch cats and dogs, running through the streets and causing a ruckus than sigh papers. With the hot sun beating down on his hood behind him, Kankuro threw it off in a sweat and continued to sign away like a machine. He didn't bother looking through what the missions entitled or if they were inappropriate. No. He just wanted to get through it so he could go on his lunch brake and down another bottle of sake.

By the time that the sun had reached it's high point, Kankuro had made it to the S rank missions. The fun stuff. The things that the puppet master missed the most. He took more time with these missions, looking through them and fingering at the edges of the papers fondly. There was nothing like a good old assassination mission; he would even deal with annoying reconnaissance missions right now. Only a select few were allowed to pursue these missions. HE was usually one of those people.

Now, all he was was a young alcoholic tethered to a hot desk by an ink pen.

Goddamn he missed it. So much in fact, he pressed down too hard on his brush and the ink spewed all across the mission report.

Cursing, Kankuro reached for a paper towel to wipe the excess ink from the piece of parchment below him. Shimmying other files out of the way from danger, his fingers grabbed at the cloth and wiped quickly. His eyes scanned around the papers to see if the ink had spilled anywhere else before they locked down on a single mission folder. A red tab stuck out from the side.

Suicide mission. The ultimate sacrifice.

His dark eyes were drawn to the thin folder, the only one of it's kind that already seemed to be approved by Temari without his knowledge. Why in the world was it on HIS pile then? Did Gaara like teasing him with missions that he wasn't allowed to go on any longer? Was this the youngest sibling's sick, twisted way of getting back at him for being so lazy? By reminding the puppet master he had the power to send his fellow shinobi to their deaths?

He was doing a damn good job of it.

Ignoring the old, ink stained file, Kankuro reached greedily for the thick folder and opened it gingerly with shaking fingers.

Mission: Retrieve the 'Kugutsu no Jutsu' scroll of Sasori of the Sand.

That was all that was on the single paper.

Kankuro's grip tightened on the folder. So, they wanted old man Sasori's old tricks huh? Probably to teach the younger children about puppetry to make more little demon spawn like himself. If that was the case, why didn't they just ask him to teach them? He surly would have if it meant breeding more puppeteers. Only a few select people with perfect chakra control could do it of course, but that didn't mean that there weren't some freak children with the natural ability to master it. Just look at that pink haired girl from Konoha. Sakura, was it? She went from a nothing to certainly something with a little practice.

The puppeteer couldn't help but give a shudder. Gaara was sending these guys to their deaths under his (or rather, Temari's) approval. Kankuro knew things about that scroll from a circle of the few elderly puppeteers left in Sunagakure. Supposedly, the scroll was hidden with a group of rogue ninja in the desert that had traded their leader's wife for the scroll. Sasori had harnessed her body into one of his puppets which Kankuro was sure Sakura and Chiyo had killed while saving Gaara. But that was beyond the point.

These people were as dangerous as anything. Savages. They created their own moving vehicles that was activated by moving the sands and winds to travel across the shifting terrain. With Earth and Wind elements on their sides, they would be exceedingly deadly.

But of course, there was more.

They attacked using puppet jutsus most likely learned from Sasori's ancient scroll which could mean forbidden jutsus of some kind were being utilized. It was only a matter of time before a retrieval team would be sent to try and find it, but only their own heavily damaged bodies would be found weeks later in the ever suffocating sands.

_It's a shame that no one knows much about them. We don't even have any idea of what kind of puppets they use or any of their other techniques since they kill everything in fucking sight!_ Kankuro let out a loud sigh and snarled before hurling the folder back on the pile with the others.

Maybe he should just turn into a rogue. How bad could it possibly be? You get to go wherever you wanted whenever you wanted, kill _whoever_ you wanted and still be able to get an adrenaline rush every single day. Gaara could turn it into a red tab mission; he could get information about the rogues and their lives, destroy the damned place from the inside out and come back as a hero. That life was a kind of life that Kankuro wanted to get back.

That was a life he was going to return to even if it killed him.

The days went on in the same monotony as they had before. Wake up, work, drink, bitch at Temari, get bitched back at, drink, sex, drink one last time and sleep. Repeat. Kankuro was even starting to get himself sick with the complete normalcy of the days. His desk job was going to drive him insane with the amount of paperwork that he had.

The puppeteer was staring out of his office window again towards the landscape of the desert. Nothing changed. It never did. It was still as tan and dune-riddled as it was before. Why in the world did he bother to look out of it every single day? What could he possibly be looking for?

With a sigh, Kankuro threw his hood on the ground and rubbed a hand through his hair. He must have looked like shit. He didn't bother brushing his hair that morning or applied the normal amount of war paint that he usually did. He was dressed in crumpled sweat pants and a simple black shirt with long sleeve fishnets underneath. He couldn't bother to dress in full gear. Nothing was happening that would require him to get into action anyway.

While signing papers and reading missions from front to back, Kankuro felt his eyes flutter closed. The weeks of partying and lack of sleep were catching up to him. He thought that he would have been used to it by now. After all, only about five hours of sleep should be enough for a shinobi of his stature to be able to recover and recuperate in full after a night of fun. It shouldn't impede him this much.

A slight rumble was felt through the floor of his office building, his eyes coming open slowly. He couldn't tell if it was coming from outside or from inside, whether it was induced by nature itself or man-made. There was definitely chakra in it, but it was frightened; almost as if Mother Earth was trembling underneath his feet from three stories above ground.

It was different.

Slowly, brown eyes narrowed as he reached down to pull his hood up over his ears. Quickly, he lunged for his scrolls and placed the familiar weight on his back. He had to admit, having his puppets back with him was exhilarating. It meant that shit was going down and he was _finally _going to be able to kick some ass. All he had to do was wait for the signal. So that's what he did.

He sat on the edge of his desk.

And waited.

Finally, after ten minutes, a young chunin shot through his door with a pained expression on his face. "Kankuro-dono! Suna is being attacked! Kazakage-dono requests your presence immediately!"

"Finally. Took you long enough. I'm heading there now. Send all captains over to Kazakage-dono's office and I'll handle them there," he smirked out to the boy and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

* * *

><p>First chapter is done!<p>

This story is a KankuroxOc story. Poor Kankuro just can't get any love in any of the manga :(

The Sand-Sibs are the most interesting characters in the entire series, I personally believe, and they don't get enough recognition. So, why not make a Kanky-centered fic since there aren't many out there that aren't about him and Kiba doing it. xD

So, I hope you all stick around :3 The next chapter should be up soon!

Love, your faithful author,

Epsilion 3


	2. Enter the Child of Dawn

1Gaara was livid. Not even pissed.

Absolutely furious.

Those damn rogue ninjas thought that they could land a full out attack on Suna? On his fortress? Oh, he would be sure to crush those insolent little maggots in their place. He couldn't stand incompetence and these people were pushing the red head's limits.

His mouth was covered by his crossed hands as his elbows leaned on his desk. The rumbling of the area outside of the city was becoming unbearable for even semi-calm him to handle. The lights were flickering on and off with every blast and shake, the adobe walls slowly crumbling.

Temari was pacing back and forth, commanding jonin and ANBU with her demanding voice and prominent finger points to go to their positions and prepare for an attack. Gaara couldn't be bothered. She knew more about what was going on than even he did at this moment.

It seemed that the ANBU squadron that was on a mission to retrieve Sasori's scroll on puppetry was found drifting back in bits and pieces down the dunes into Suna's front line defense. Blood mixed with sand made a thick, brown river as the rumbling of the sand ships of the rogues in the distance hovered just out of reach. Just out of their jurisdiction and just out of their attacking range.

Now, the clan was teasing the small town, sending sand dragons to encircle the capitol city from reinforcements from Leaf and Cloud. No one could get in and no one could get out. They were completely trapped.

And Gaara was in complete shit from the elders.

"YOU! TO THE NORTH GATE. YOU AND YOUR TEAM ON INFANTRY. YOU, YOU AND YOU. YOU'RE TO SEND THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN TO THE STRONGHOLD. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. MOVE QUICKLY AND PRECISELY. I WANT NO MISTAKES!" Temari shouted at the many frightened shinobi underneath her.

They weren't stupid, nor should they be considered so. They all knew the dangers of this rogue clan and how no one has survived to tell the details of their attacks before dying of their injuries or in pieces. Any person in their right mind would be afraid.

Gaara stood in his place behind his desk as a puff of smoke shuddered throughout his office. Kankuro looked calm and had a hint of excitement in his eyes, the commanding officer in him looking ready to lead his people to victory. That was one thing that he could count on his lazy brother to do. If anything, it would be to make a dent on this rogue population.

Keeping Kankuro pent up in Suna was Gaara's plan all along. The longer he was inside, the more productive he would be in battle. The more he would kill. The more he would protect. At this point, to succeed was the main target. Suna NEEDED that scroll. It was absolutely mandatory.

"Finally Baka! Help me out here! This is your job for chris'sakes! Do it!" Temari shouted over her breath as she moved back towards Gaara's side to map out an attack route.

Kankuro stepped forward and to his captains and spoke in a low voice. They all nodded in unison and disappeared calmly. Turning to the ANBU, he spoke in the same tone of voice and they all nodded with a "Hai Kankuro-dono" and disappeared as well.

Gaara had been originally surprised when he had first seen his brother step into action. He didn't scare them like he or Temari did. He simply went down to their level and spoke to them like they were his equals. _Maybe that's why they listen so well. Kankuro acts like he's human._

Finally, Gaara's assistant Matsuri bursted into the room with her arms filled with all of the information that she could possibly find about the rogue ninjas that have decided to pay revenge on Suna.

"Gaara-dono," she bit out confidently, dropping the files softly onto his desk. "I have the information you asked for."

"Report," he said coldly. Kankuro and Temari stood next to their brother like two supporting pillars, although one looked like it was crumbling slightly from overexhaustion and the other looked like it was about to blow itself in half with fury.

"The rogue clan calls themselves 'Tori no Suna', or Sand Birds thanks to their feathered goggles with beak-like appendages on the ends of their noses. They've been living on the outskirts of Suna for at least 300 years, gradually growing as they accept more and more into their clan. They are usually married within their clan. Male members should be able to be identified by linear scars across their arms and torsos. The more marks they have, the more powerful they are. Females usually have one, two or three scar circles under their right eye depending on what stature they are in society.

Their current leader is Nakahara Kojiro, age 46 and he has been married three times over. His first wife was traded to Sasori for the Puppetry Scroll and his second was put to death for treason. His current wife is Fukosari Seka, age 37. They have three children together who are the direct heirs to the clan; Nakahara Akemi, female, age 20. Nakahara Taigo, male, age 17. And finally Nakahara Sozen, male, age 5. The female is the next in line and is their commanding general directly under her father."

Temari bent over forward to look at Kankuro, a feral grin on her face. "Looks like you're going to be fighting a chick then, eh Kanku-kun?"

The man didn't say anything in response. Gaara could tell by his stern appearance that he just wanted to get out there and tear something apart. The wait time was over.

Matsuri continued. "Their special abilities usually orbit around Earth techniques and Wind techniques. Those few that are special enough to inherit both elements usually command the sand ships that carry the rest of the infantry. Because they have Sasori's scroll, we can only imagine that some skilled ninja know the techniques, although we don't know what kind of puppets these people are using."

"Why not?" Gaara asked quizzically, his forehead furrowed slightly.

Matsuri paused and looked down. "No one has survived to give very many details before they perished. Reports show that some barely surviving members froze up at the mere mention of the puppets and passed shortly after. We can only assume that with their major injuries, they were literally scared to death."

Temari sucked in a breath while Kankuro looked down, plotting. If these puppets were so bad, then Kankuro would be sure to dissect the sons of bitches to nothing but rubble. With his personally, hand crafted puppets, it would be easy to tear down these commercial pieces of shit. That shouldn't be too hard.

"I don't see how hard it could possibly be. We have over three times as many Suna shinobi as they have warriors. I think we're going to be okay," Kankuro spit out like acid, his thin frame moving towards the door.

"Kankuro, are you seriously going to fight in a t-shirt and sweat pants? It's not very protected. You could get hurt," Gaara let out gently. If Kankuro wanted to be an idiot, then he couldn't stop him. He was merely the younger brother and could only suggest things to the elder.

"I'm a big kid now Gaara-kun. I think I know how to dress for battle, ne?" Kankuro let out his signature smirk and opened the door to Gaara's office. "You'll be seeing a white flag wave from those Bird brains sooner rather then later. Ja."

Temari yelled out the door after him as it clicked shut. "Don't you dare end up dead you asshole! You still have work to do!"

No response.

"He's going to get hurt, isn't he Gaara-kun?" Temari asked, blowing her bangs out of her face.

"Most likely."

"Do you think he's going to live?"

"..."

The Kazekage, the ever steady beacon of light for his people, felt his strength flicker at the thought of his only brother perishing in battle.

Kankuro sped off into the sands, his feet leaving footprints behind him with three ANBU guarding his flank. He was going to be going directly into battle while Temari would be commanding from the towers. Gaara would be reassuring the people on the insides of the walls and wouldn't have to fight unless retreat had become an option.

Kankuro could honestly say that he didn't want Gaara to fight this battle. Not because he would probably take all of Kankuro's kills, but because if anything happened to the red head, Kankuro would never forgive himself and neither would his people. They would most likely exile him or even possibly kill him. Anyone who endangered the Kazekage was considered to be a threat and should be disposed of as such.

Kankuro quickly arrived at the front lines. Baki was waiting and staring out to the horizon at the sand ships whizzing around, hoops and hollers from the rebels sounding like Indian war calls. Kankuro tapped his mentor on the shoulder who addressed him without turning around. "What are the orders from Gaara-donno?"

"Kill them all," Kankuro blurted out, his mouth in a hard line. "If there are prisoners, keep only the ones who look to be the highest in society. We're going to make the Nakahara-san over there sweat a little."

Baki nodded in understanding and darted back towards the front line, leaving Kankuro to stand as a lone black figure amongst the tan sands. He drew a scroll from his back and bit his thumb, drawing a crimson streak of blood before scribbling it onto the scroll. "Summoning Jutsu!"

With a puff of smoke, Kuroari and Karasu were at his fingertips, both chattering and fiddling with excitement as their master drew chakra into their bodies for the first time in months. It was battle time and the puppets were ready for some blood shed.

Kankuro took an offensive position and waited. He felt the army of shinobi behind him also tense expectantly. The sand ships before them had gotten into a line and rumbled gently on the horizon. The yelling and screaming of excitement had ceased.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Kankuro yelled out to his people. "The time has come for us. After years of sitting and waiting after the Second Shinobi War had ended, it's time to draw our kunai forward to suppress an enemy dedicated to destroying us. Our women and children, the defenseless future to our society are shaking in the strongholds, unsure of if they or their loved ones, that's you guys, are going to be alright."

Kankuro paused for a moment and let it all sink in before continuing.

"But I know for a fact that we will succeed. That Suna will continue to be a stronghold for all of the Nations to witness. Our impenetrable walls and unshakable faiths will rock these rogues to the core. As shinobi, it is our duty to fight, to protect, and to defend against enemies who threaten our ninja ways. I'm defending mine as we speak."

Kankuro took a breath as the heat of the mid-morning sun beat down on his hood. It was going to be a hot one today.

"My ninja way is to protect those I care about. My village, my family, my friends. My teachers, my students, my peers and my comrades. By serving in line with everyone out here, my friends and comrades, I am making my ninja way a reality. As the great ninja Hatake Kakashi had once told to me, "Those who abandon their mission are trash and those who leave their friends behind are worse than trash." Do not abandon your team! They will be your greatest allies and your most powerful weapons. You work together to reach a common goal. That is what a team is."

A few cheers were heard from the back to the middle ranks of the army. Suddenly, the sounds grew loud as every single willing and fighting force behind Kankuro erupted into cheers and battle cries. The time had come and they were ready. They were behind him.

And all it took was a sappy, half-assed speech that he came up with on the spot.

"Boys and girls, let's get ready to FIGHT!"

A pair of small, gloved hands grasped gently at a pair of binoculars from atop of a sand ship. The wind blew through her reddish brown hair as her vision locked onto a black figure standing alone in the front line with two puppets shaking in anticipation before him.

_That must be Kankuro no Sabaku, the infamous Puppet Master of the Sand... Well Kankuro-san, let's make this fight a fun one shall we?_

With a coy smile, Nakahara Akemi pulled her clear goggles down over her violet eyes. She felt butterflies in her stomach and her people's chakras nearly becoming palpable with anticipation. Suna would fall and her father would be forever remembered for the victory in which he felled the young Kazekage, Gaara no Sabaku.

A general to the right of the girl stood at attention. "Sir, are we leading the first strike?"

While strapping green, red, brown and dark blue feathers to her goggles, she turned towards her general. "Yes. I'll activate the first line of attack when I'm ready. Calm yourself soldier and wait for victory. These Sand bastards don't know what in the world their getting into."

With a nod, the general signaled for the rest of the party to prepare. Feathers and beaks of all different colors appeared from the sand ships. Some were short, some were long, but the most remarkable thing was that their eyes all shone with the same intensity that their young leader's did.

After finishing her preparations and her long beak firmly in place, Akemi did a few different hand signs before finishing with her hands thrust into the ground.

"Doton! Sabaku Sunaarashi!" (Earth Style: Desert Sandstorm)

The grains of shifting sand became loose as the entire battlefield between the Suna Shinobi and the Tori no Suna became enshrouded in a cloud of sand and wind.

Akemi urged the sand ships forward with a cry as they sped into the clouds.

Kankuro yelled in start, feeling as if the rogues had instituted the fight with their sandstorm. Shinobi began to pull up their shirts to block the sands from their faces as jonin and chunin shrouded their faces with the shinobi issued veils Suna perfered.

The infantry ran into the storm, kunai flashing as the rumbling in the distance became stronger.

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Wow! Second chapter up! Woo!

I really love where this is going!

Don't worry, I'm sure you can feel the tension between Kankuro and Akemi already ;) (Pst, they're the main characters if you haven't figured it out already!)

This is sure to be quite a bit of fun as Ms. Akemi said.

Well! Until next time!

Your loving author,

Epsilion 3


	3. Fight!

1Kankuro surged through the storm, Kuroari and Karasu slipping and sliding between comrades and enemies. They sliced and diced everything that they could see in sight while Kankuro attacked with kunai and hidden blades in his boots. He ducked in and out of the crowds, past enemy rouges and focused on one thing: the only circling sand ship still left being driven by Nakahara Akemi.

Kankuro was focused on the girl mowing down his shinobi left and right, showing no regard for her own safety or the safety of her people. He moved like a demon possessed towards her as Karusu shot poison darts into the wall of rogues that appeared in front of his master. Their feather masks were soaked in their own blood as cries of the fallen shot out amongst the shifting winds.

The wind shifted to the side as the sand ship sped past him. Kuroari moved to hold its master up in its wooden arms as the ship turned once again to face the opposing puppet master. Kankuro smirked under his hood and yelled to the winds.

"NAKAHARA, YOU'RE MINE."

As if on cue, the sand ship sunk to the grounds and buried itself ferociously into the sand. A ninja had come from behind Kankuro and he kicked backwards, a hidden spike activating on the back of his boot had dug into his opponent. _For chrissake! These people underestimate us too much..._ Kankuro shook his head in disbelief. Didn't these people know the truth? No matter how innocent looking, nothing from Suna was safe. Not even a little leather boot.

Kankuro continued on surging forward, dodging left and right into the storms around him. He had to keep moving. He had to keep his feet from making contact in too many places. Since that Akemi girl was underneath the ground, she must have a way to figure out where he was. Kankuro assumed that way was by locking onto a chakra pattern and watching it shift through the lifeless sands of the desert. All puppet masters are taught certain skills to make their lives a little easier. This was one of the basic ones to uncover hidden enemies that even a genin could learn with the right amount of practice.

Kuroari and Karasu moved with every flick of his finger. He was cruising swiftly and efficiently, his legs pumping quickly to deflect off of the ground with the lightest of touches. In being so light on his toes, Kankuro never felt the rumbling underneath the ground that signaled the speeder emerging from the depths of the desert.

The large sand ship exploded out of the sand, the tip of the bow coming in contact with Kankuro's pant leg, spearing it and severing the cloth while launching him high into the sand storm. He grunted as he was tossed like a rag doll, both of his puppets flying from their master's fingers and into the sands below. The puppet master twisted in the air in an attempt to save himself from being impaled on the spiked bow of the ship. Coming down, he saw the first glances of Akemi Nakahara.

Her maroon hair was flowing out of the back of her head like waves of an ocean, a few strands crossing in front of the lenses of her goggles. The colorful feathers protruding from around her mask came down to bend and twist in the wind. Her eyes were violent and determined, a gleam coming across the dilated pupils. With her body thin and lithe like a cat's, the light straw colored strings protruding like streams of gold from her fingertips were different from what the puppet master was used to seeing. Kankuro couldn't help but find the scene rather hysterical. _I'm getting my ass whooped by a pretty little twit. Way to be captain…_

The puppet master twisted gently before corkscrewing into the ground below him, disappearing gently into the shifting sands just as his opponent had before. Akemi furrowed her eyebrows and catapulted herself from off of her ship, strings still connected to the sides. In taking a quick scan of the surrounding areas, she could tell that her people were being slaughtered one by one. Feathers were littered across the sands and swirled in the winds, the iron smell of blood hovering in the air. With a taste of acid in her mouth, the girl gritted her teeth and yelled to the winds.

"RETREAT!"

The earth rumbled beneath her. The saliva in her mouth dried instantly. Her knees locked and her feet were off the ground, the wood of a large puppet shaking underneath her sandaled arches appeared with Kankuro standing upon its head. Akemi struggled in mid air and whipped her hands around, pulling her ship into a vertical position, the keel facing out towards the newest puppet. As soon as it had come to rest, the ship had sprouted arms and legs, the wooden planks shaking and transposing into fingers and knees. The bow of the ship had moved to the front of the "face", resembling a large beak dripping with poisons and toxins.

The sounds of the battle had fallen silent other than the winds whipping around the dunes with chakra induced speed. The Tori no Suna were standing behind their mistress, their faces hidden by their colorful masks. Many were wounded and bleeding, the red coming out in rivers and staining the tan sand to the color of dirt. Only about half of them were left standing.

Many of Kankuro's men had disappeared below the desert sands and were just as badly wounded as those of Akemi's clan. Only about half of his men remained as well.

The girl stood with her ten story giant, her fingers laced into the sand storm. She stepped forward and the great creature moved as well, its feet making the grounds shake with every stride. Kankuro stood hard and strong against the pounding. _This is the demon that no one has ever seen. This is the deadliest weapon of the Tori no Suna… How the fuck could they create something of this mass at their levels? Could that scroll really contain the information to make GIANTS?_

Akemi continued to move towards him. Baki had come up behind the side of Kankuro, a large hand placing itself on the dirty commander. "What do we do Kankuro-sama?"

Kankuro didn't let his eyes leave the small girl before him. He could see the whites of her eyes at this point, the violet looking dead straight into his soul, into his pride, into his mind. Without losing contact, he stiffened.

"Get everyone out of here."

"But Kanku-"

"Don't argue! Now. The safety of the men is more important than a fuck up like me. It's my duty to protect the village and my men. Now _leave_. Quickly!"

"Kankuro, they're going to follow us."

Akemi stopped 200 yards from Kankuro and his men. If the puppet that she had was so ultimate, she was in a kill zone to destroy not only himself, but the entire Suna army. There was no time.

"Baki, it's not going to happen. Just take them all and go. I'll stop them all. That's a promise."

He turned with a child like grin to his old master. "And I don't break my promises."

Baki gritted his teeth and hung his head low in respect. He took off in a blast of sand and fought back the urge of his feet to stay by his student's side. Kankuro had grown from an immature child who played pranks to gain attention into a man; a man who made mistakes no doubt, but contained an air of leadership that couldn't be looked past. He got what he wanted with not only his leading voice, but with his stealthy mind and words. It was a trait that would not be forgotten in Baki's mind.

"Everyone move! Grab your man and head to the village."

The army faltered for a second, but complied with their second in command, their gazes lingering from behind their head gear towards their leader who was standing face-to-face with a serial killer and her army. It was a single man versus a thousand.

Akemi felt her eyebrows furrow deeply. The man was letting his army retreat! What a coward. Her lieutenant, Kai, came from behind her and bowed at the hips. "Sir?"

"Kill them."

Without another word, a click sounded through the air and her army sprang towards their feet, a new found force of excitement surging through them. They ran forward through the sands as Akemi stayed in her spot. She held her head high. This would be a victory. A pitiful one on Sunagakure's part, but a victory none the less. Her father would be proud. After winning against the "Stronghold Army", Akemi would personally deliver the Kazekage's head on a plate to her father.

In watching her army continue on towards the single figure that was Kankuro no Subaku, the large puppet that he had been standing on had went vertical just as hers had, it's stomach opening with thousands of senbon needles shooting from its thorax in an everlasting stream. The front line of her army fell and the infantry in the back stumbled over the dead bodies as the needles continued on. The man had taken shelter behind the spine of the creature.

When the stream stopped, only about twenty of her men were left standing. Akemi bit her lip and ran forward into battle. She was going to end this puppet master before he could end the rest of her clan.

Kankuro had come out from behind Sanshuo and dropped it to the ground, its major purpose used as of now. He was hoping to wait to use the Death Needles, but with over five hundred people coming at him at once, it was never really an option to hold it back. He back peddled gingerly and searched for the chakra remnants on his lost puppets under the desert. He had to think quickly about where Kuroari and Karusu fell before the group of standing men could get to him. That was wishful thinking, but it didn't happen.

With the men quicker than he had expected coming upon him, Kankuro ended his search abruptly and drew a kunai from the pouch on his hip. His t-shirt rippled in the winds and the sand stung his eyes, but it was now or never. Fight or die. _I'll fucking fight alright. _

The first two men approached him and he struck out with both arms, the kunai driving deeply into their chests. He slightly sensed the chakra of one that was coming from above. He took the bodies of the recently killed and held them above his head, the pouncing ninja's katana skewering the two together. He dropped his kill and slit the throat of the ninja flying over his head, the beak of the mask splitting in two from the speed.

As the seconds went on, Kankuro continued on with his slaughter, his feet and arms working in perfect unison. He didn't think. He didn't judge. He didn't care if it was man, woman, or child. He would slaughter all of these fuckers until there was none left. Those who threaten his village and threaten his family would die. Those who came against him would die. Those who hurt the ones he loved would die. Nothing mattered. Nothing felt abnormal. He killed without remorse, without feeling, without protest from his body. It was like he was a river, simply flowing on. His strength never waned and his body never slowed. He was a machine and he would finish the deed.

Suddenly, there was one left. Kankuro could see the red dripping down his face and his hair. His headgear was long since discarded and his gloves were cut to shreds. He ripped a katana out from one of his felled victims and pointed it towards the figure. It ran towards him, it's obviously masculine voice screamed towards the winds. Kankuro simply sidestepped the man and flipped the katana deep into the spine of the poorly trained 'warrior'. The man plummeted to the ground and fell silent.

He looked up fiercely to the woman before him, now girlish in appearance, three scarred circles scrunched underneath her goggles. Her teeth were gritted and her fists were clenched in frustration.

"YOU. FUCKING. BASTARD!" she shouted towards the winds. Kankuro stayed silent. The stillness after the battle phase had left his body to feel the after effects of his adrenaline rush. The chakra depleation wracked his body quickly and fiercely. He knew his time of battle was going to end soon. It was just a matter of time before he would die before this girl's hands.

Akemi raged forwards, her shoulder muscles straining as her puppet surged to life. It's hands came forward to grasp for the body before it, but Kankuro sidestepped out of the way. His eyes were analyzing the wood type, the structure, how many boards made an arm? A leg? Where were the weak spots. His dark eyes never left the puppet as he calculated everything that he could about the creature. After dodging the thing for a few seconds he had come up with a few pros and cons.

Pros? The thing was slow and it seemed like it was jointed together rather weakly. That would be where he would strike. The cons? The wood was cherry wood which he had never fought before so he didn't know how to destroy it; he couldn't tell if there was furnishing on it, or what the traps within it were. He could see the pullies and springs and such, but any netting or poisons or shards were invisible to his eyes. He couldn't figure out what the thing did. Would it just crush it's victims with it's brute force or would it burn them all with a river of stereotypical Tori no Suna poisons?

Kankuro felt himself slowing down as his muscles burned of lactic acid. He felt as if he was having an out of body experience trying to extend his chakras to find his puppets and trying to dodge the large creature that Akemi controlled.

His gaze rolled over the girl controlling the beast, her arms and legs pulling wildly against the sands. Her muscles were sculpted and her shirt pulled under the stress of the chakra strings (or rather ropes) that protruded from various parts of her body. Her face was pulled in anger and frustration as her knees started to buckle and her head started to loll to the side. She was getting just as tired as he was which lead Kankuro to think that controlling this monster cost her small body massive amounts of chakra that she just didn't have. His mind clicked.

The creature was meant for quick kills en masse. The heir to the Tori no Suna wasn't used to prolonged fights. Normally her enemies fell before she most likely even had to pull out the big guns. The creature wasn't used unless there was no way of winning. It was quick and effective and that was all that the warriors needed for a victory.

The second Sand Sibling was better by himself than some of the armies that Akemi had ever faced. He was quick and didn't yell or scream if he had gotten hit. She could tell that he was slowing down and she needed to strike fast. _I got to get this guy to trip or fall or something. At this rate, I won't be able to fight back when he attacks. He's tiring me out and I know that's his plan..._

Akemi pulled from the right and Kankuro jumped left just as she had expected. Quickly, she punched the left fist of her creature towards the slowing body. Kankuro was thrown ruthlessly to the sands and tumbled to face directly up. Akemi let out a grunt of approval. _Direct hit. Perfect. Time to finish this._

Kankuro crumpled into the sand, his eyes forcing themselves open slowly to look at the angry grey skies and the sand swirling above his head. His legs were beginning to be covered and his shirt whipped against his chest. The hit from that damned puppet definitely shattered a few ribs and dislocated his right shoulder. He moved his leg gingerly and felt muscles pulling and the few that had torn sent shudders up his spine. _Fuck. I'm in bad shape. Shit motherfucking..._

A wooden hand appeared over his body and came down quickly. Kankuro rolled out of the way, the pain of the past injuries sending large pockets of pain down his frame. He couldn't tell if he was bleeding or the blood from his past victims were currently running down his lips. Everything was a blur. His eyes were starting to close. Kankuro was in a bad place.

Akemi saw the puppeteer beginning to give. His body was crumpled in the sands and she could visibly see his legs bent in awkward angles. At least he wouldn't run anymore.

Panting, Akemi moved forward her creature reaching down to pick up the puppeteer's body for the second time. The puppet picked him up forcefully and a yell was pulled from the man's lips. Akemi could see that he was tall, broad, dark eyed and well fit. There were dark bags under his eyes that were visible to the human eye from almost twenty feet away. She felt that his exhaustion extended long before the battlefield had ever become a problem.

The man didn't fight and didn't fidget. Akemi could safely assume that he was in too much pain to even fight. If she wanted to, she could crush the man, make him bleed internally and let him die slowly, but she had other plans for him. Akemi drew the man closer to her so she could inspect him closely.

"You must be exhausted Kankuro-san," she said venomously. The man kept his head hung low. He didn't speak. He didn't react. Akemi almost thought he was dead already.

"You fight like a warrior. You're probably better than almost all of my men..." She took his chin gently in her hands and lifted it slightly. His eyes were squinted in pain. She lifted her goggles up to peer into his face. "But even so, when one is tired, they make stupid mistakes. If I didn't swat you like a fly, we would still be fighting. You have to think three steps ahead of your opponant."

"Don't fucking lecture me bitch," Kankuro drawled out, his words slurred in pain. "I get enough of that at home."

Akemi smiled gingerly at this and let his face fall. "Goodbye Kankuro-san. It was nice talking with you. I'll make sure I tell your brother about your pitiful death as soon as he's BEGGING on his knees for life."

Kankuro's head snapped up in anger. A throaty growl shot from his lips. "That's not gonna happen hoe."

Akemi let another smile protrude from her lips. "It will. Trust me."

"NO. IT. WON'T." Kankuro's face scrunched and his shoulders twitched. Akemi felt the wind change suddenly and she was in the dark. It was cold and damp, the darkness around her suffocated her system. She felt her chakra strings sever at the very appearance of the darkness.

"W-WHAT THE HELL?" she yelled, her own voice echoing into the darkness and back into her eardrums. She heard the sound of her puppet come crumbling down to the sands under her. A grunt was heard through the walls of...of... of whatever Akemi was in that she assumed was Kankuro.

"Now Akemi-san," a weak voice muttered through the winds. "Rethink your own advice. Think four steps ahead... Not three."

Akemi played the scene that had just happened in her head. How in the world could a man with no energy such as the one before her had trapped her in a dark prison? How had he found the time? How was he able to spring such a trap so easily without her knowing?

Suddenly, it all became clear to her.

_That goddamned shoulder wiggle…_

Akemi figured that the small shoulder wiggle was Kankuro sending his chakras searching for the two beloved puppets that she had sent hurdling into the sands below them. She thought for sure that they would have been crushed to splinters by now underneath the sand, but there was an obvious other force at work that prevented that. What it could possibly be, she had not a clue.

"Where am I?" she asked as calmly as possible. Akemi knew that losing her head in this situation wasn't the smartest thing to do at this point. She was his prisoner and she was defenseless. Her only puppet was destroyed and she was at his mercy wherever she was.

Kankuro didn't respond for a good ten seconds, but grunted as he lifted himself up off the ground. Akemi could feel the vibrations from his moving body ripple through the ground, proving to her that she was still in the same area that he was in. Had he somehow developed a sand jutsu just as the Kazekage was capable of?

A searing pain was felt through her shoulder and a hot wetness dripped from the throbbing muscles. Akemi could only mask her scream as the slight light of day made its way through the slight openings where the pain had come from. She saw the metal of two katana gleaming from above, crossing over to pin her into her cage. She realized that she was _inside_ of something because neither the heat nor the wind could touch her. Her surroundings shook and the swords dug deeper into her joints. She let out a howl.

"Serves you right. Deal with it," came from Kankuro, his voice strained and pain obvious in his tone. Akemi had really done a number on the man. He didn't want to admit it, but he was walking on two broken legs, trying to trudge a good five miles back to Suna with a prisoner and three puppets on his shoulders. He had no way to communicate with base since Baki had left him. For all that he knew, they all could have thought him dead.

He might as well have been.

Tears flooded Kankuro's vision as he trudged through the sands. The only thing keeping him from falling over was the moaning and whimpering of the younger girl trapped in the pits of Kuroari's stomach.

He trudged on through the whipping winds hoping, praying, that Baki and the rest of the army was safe and sound.

This has been SO long overdue. I feel like a complete butthead, but I really just haven't had much time to get to the computer! Don't worry boys and girls, this story won't end! I have many plans for it still. It may take a while for me to get them out on the computer, but they're in my mind! ;) Don't you worry about that!

Until next update my little cherubs!

Your faithful servant,

Epsilion


	4. Reconnaissance and Retaliation

Temari had her vision blocked by an incredible sandstorm the second that the Suna troupe had reached the Tori no Suna and engaged in battle. She wasn't able to see anything from her binoculars and could only wait with tapping fingers and fidgeting feet. The walls had finally stopped rumbling and most of the room was silent except for the tapping of those long fingernails against her cherry wood desk.

Gaara stood impassively at the window, his arms cross and shoulders rigid. The sandstorm had been chakra induced; therefore, his third eye was unable to be used to spy on the antics of his older brother. Just like his sister, all he could do was stand there and wait for some sign of victory or defeat. The shifting sands mocked him in their waltz around his village.

Then, there it was.

A flicker in the storm.

That flicker was all he needed to see. Gaara wrapped himself in sand and disappeared from the room without a single word. Temari reached out for her brother, surprised at his sudden departure. "—wha? Gaara!? Come back!"

She shot up and ran towards the window, her hands dropping on the sill. Gaara was at the gates opening the gates to the village on his own with sand clones. The gigantic doors creaked open slowly, revealing a mass of brown, black and red behind them. People were running, no, _sprinting_ back towards the gates. Some carried their fallen comrades; others were helping the injured. Everyone had a man to take care of, something that the Kazekage had never seen before in his dismantled his clones and jumped out of the way of the horde, creating a platform to stand on.

"SHIT!" Temari shouted the words at the tops of her lungs and took off for her people. She weaved herself through the crowds of screaming people. Some held their partners in their arms as they stroked their hair, the counterpart screaming at the tops of their lungs before the poison of the Tori no Suna reached their hearts. Jonin were yelling orders left and right, trying to make a sorting of the few hundred people that had returned to the village. Temari grabbed one by the tops of his collar. "WHERE IS KANKURO?"

"He told us to retreat, m'lady," the man stuttered out, obviously frightened of eldest Sand Sibling. "He was still out there when I last saw him. It was one man against hundreds!"

Temari's heart sunk in her chest. Her baby brother… He took on an entire army on his lonesome? She gritted her teeth and dropped the man ferociously, taking off towards the gates. _That damned fool! That honorable fucking fool!_

Gaara spotted his sister's haste through the crowd, heading directly towards the gates. He dropped slowly towards the ground in spotting his mentor, Baki, helping a group of medical ninja round up the wounded. "Baki. I'm going with Temari."

His sensei turned his eye towards him, purple bruises lining his cheeks. "It may be too late for him, Gaara. The enemy may be upon us in an instant. We need you here. It's against the rules to have a Kazekage out on the battlefield during an open attack on the village! He must protect the inside walls!"

Gaara turned his back on Baki, his stride picking up speed with every movement. "Then it's a good thing that I make the rules now, Baki." Soon he was at a full sprint, moving towards the sands to catch his speedy sister.

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His vision was blurry. The only thing carrying him home was the sound of the crying woman hauled on his back, her shrieks at every painful movement becoming a headache for his already throbbing temples.

His legs had gone numb long ago, his skin blistering under the heat of the midafternoon sky. His hood had been long since discarded. His mesh shirt hung in tatters on his battered frame, congealed blood sealing the fibers into his skin. The only thing he could do was trudge on.

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"How far could he have gone?" Temari shouted over the winds, her younger brother taking the lead on the reconnaissance for their brother. Gaara didn't respond, but instead sent his chakra through the sands, hoping, _praying_, that his elder brother was still able to move. Still able to _live. _

A pinprick of a warm, familiar chakra scoped into his radar. _Kankuro._

"He's ahead!" Gaara meekly responded back. Kankuro's chakra was so _thin_, so very fragile and weak. It reverberated against the dunes of the desert in desperate pulsations against the serpentining grains. He was hurt, badly from what he could tell.

They had to move quickly.

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Kankuro fell to his knees. The jarring elicited one final whimper from the woman inside of his puppet. He couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

_Is this… How I'm going… to die?_

The poison filled his lungs, his heart, his head, and there was no more.

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Temari spotted the dirtied figure laying limply in the sand, a bulge suited on his back.

Her heart nearly stopped.

With a last surge, she jumped forward to find the figure of her younger brother, completely still and face down in the ground. She grabbed a kunai, cutting the leather straps of Kuroari from his shoulders, throwing the heavy gourd to the ground. She could have sworn she heard the coo of a dove from somewhere beyond the sands, but had no interest in any birds. Only her brother.

She turned him gently in her arms, her forearm cradling his head as her shaking hand searched for a pulse. _There._ Faintly, it thrummed on like a soft drum, gently against his pallid skin.

The only time she had ever seen him this pale was when he was born. A shaky, colicky baby, Kankuro had been sickly nearly his entire first year. He never quite cried, much to his father's happiness, but stared at the world with wide open eyes, absorbing every little detail he could. Temari always knew he had the greatest memory of their mother. After all, all he did was stare at her features. Maybe that's how he became an artist in the first place; his ability to observe had been bestowed to him at birth.

Now, his eyes couldn't even open. All he did was lay there limply in her arms. Gaara had arrived shortly after her, but did not kneel to his brother. Instead, he was inspecting Kuroari, slowly withdrawing each of Karusu's swords from their hilts and shocked to find fresh blood lining the metal. Haggard shrieks came from deep within its depths. "Please! No more! No more!"

Gaara displaced the head of the puppet, giving light to the cavern. The small creature inside of the puppet's stomach screamed again, shielding her eyes from the setting sun with bloodied hands. She feebly shook in her place, slashed and pierced arms and shoulders giving her the appearance of a skewered scarecrow. Her lips were cracked with the hollows under her eyes blackened with exhaustion. Her maroon hair was matted to the sides of her face, her clothing torn to shreds, and her violet eyes wide with fear.

_Nakahara Akemi_.

Gaara drew his sands forward, lifting her quickly from the limp puppet, her shrieks growing louder with every movement. Those violet eyes that had held fear a moment ago now held anger upon finally realizing who had her in their grasps. She clutched her shoulders to her body as the sand nearly swallowed her whole.

Anger radiated from his body in return. He sent warning tendrils from his body towards the girl, waited to watch her squirm, but was surprised when she kept on her wiggling. Normally, ninja would immediately cower at his chakra leaking into the air, but it was like this girl had no clue he was even doing anything. She was sizing him up. He did the same.

"You're going to die," he stated matter-of-factly. "You will not get away with this."

The girl did not speak in response. She held her tongue and growled deep in the back of her scratched throat. She couldn't have been much older than Gaara, although her body seemed to be malnourished with bones jutting from the tops of her shoulders even though her face seemed evenly filled out. Her anger had eventually turned to calm before turning to sleep, the strenuous nature of the flare of anger finally taking its toll on the woman.

Gaara extended his palm, his fingers splayed out. He would end this woman once and for all. IT didn't matter if she was important to the Tori no Suna. It didn't matter that she could be the most important hostage in the history of Suna. All Gaara wanted to do was rip this little woman limb from limb and watch her blood turn the sand brown below her. Temari could only watch as she tried to haul Kankuro over her shoulder.

"Gaara! Save her for later! We need to get him home! Now!" Her ragged, raw voice dragged Gaara from his killing intent with disdain. He turned to his sister, now fully frontal with his older brother. Kankuro was bruised nearly head to toe with cuts littering his body. Each wound was scabbed over a yellow in cover, possibly from the poison, while many of his bones were visibly out of place. Gaara covered the entire group in sand, leaving Karusu, Karoari, and Sanshuo to fend for themselves against the sliding dunes of the desert.

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Nothing but darkness….

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Nakahara Taijo waited at the compound's gates, a shoulder leaning against the carved gate. Father had sent Akemi straight into the desert to destroy the Kazekage after his damned ninja came into his village to steal the scroll. They didn't account for so many strong and powerful warriors to be at his sister's beck and call. There hadn't been much better than watching his father take those four Suna ninja, each shaking in their sandals, and personally detatching each of their limbs from their joints while making the others watch.

Taijo remembered Akemi looking upon the bodies sadly as their blood coated the streets in rivulets. When he had asked why she looked that way, he recalled her saying that they were perfectly dissected at their joints; the perfect combination for puppets.

Taijo admired her skill and her craft. After all, she was the only one of her family to be able to wield the Golden Strings other than her father and aunt. As next in line, Akemi was setting up a village that could easily squash Suna as soon as she took power. That Gaara kid didn't stand a chance.

The sun had begun to set on the desert, causing Taijo to frown. Where was she? Akemi was never late for her curfrew. Suna wasn't far away at all and she had set out early in the morning, but there wasn't even a buzz in the air to signal the arrival of the sand ships.

The sun sunk below the desert. A deep chill sank into Taijo's bones. There was no army rumbling over the pass. No air ships circling the village in victory. No older sister on the prow of her ship, colorful feathers waving in the air with the wind, her arms outstretched. There was no smile. There was no laughing.

Nothing but the shifting sands.

Taijo ran.

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Kankuro tried to open his eyes and failed. He felt as if there were staples under his eyelids. He wasn't going to fight it; it only meant he needed to sleep. Maybe all of that partying was catching up to him.

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Akemi spat in Gaara's face.

Did this BOY think that he could intimidate her? That he could scare her into submission? Well he was dead wrong. Some Kazekage wouldn't be the one to break her. Not on her agenda.

The Kazekage stood there, wiping her saliva from his face with the same dead look in his eyes as when he had first held her in his sandy grasp. His sister, Temari no Suna, stood towards the back of the room, a little fearful at the tension rising from the room. She turned her head towards the door on more than on occasion, not sure with which eyes to make contact with. Or, she was thinking of her other little brother, who for all she knew was dying on some operating table like a science experience.

Gaara moved towards the shackled girl with slow, calculating steps, eying her like a steak. She kept her sharpened fangs bared at him, a low frequency growl consistently grumbling in her throat.

He was sizing her up, trying to see how much she would fight; how much she would scream. He was trying to see the weaknesses on her edges and corners, her boarders and creases. She felt exposed under his emerald eyes, so very intense against the dark bags lining his eyelids from a childhood of sleepless nights. Akemi continued to grit her teeth.

Gaara shot his sand out in a whip, the grains thinly slicing a streak in her cheek. She bit down the pain and continued to stare at him directly into his eyes; a challenge. Her father had done worse. The burns under her eyes were only the beginning.

Gaara struck her across her chest, her abdomen, her thighs. She bit back the screams deep into the rawness of her throat.

It was going to be a long night.

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HI THERE! Did you think I left this behind?! Think again!

Just a little filler chapter until I have enough time to write a full blown one. Akemi's in Suna in the hands of the Sand Sibs! What's gonna happen now?! UHOH!


	5. A Little Help From My Friends

Thank you all so much for the incredible reviews 3 It feels so nice to be back, I made ANOTHER chapter in short notice! ((Unfortunately, don't expect this pace to hold; I have TONS of school work to do! College kid problems!)) I really do appreciate all of your support and for some of you, even staying with me through these few, long years. Although it's only chapter 5, I feel extremely pertinent on finishing this piece; something I've never done before!

Onwards and Upwards!

Epsilion xoxoxox

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><p>Akemi didn't know if her soul had departed or if her body had transformed into a piece of lead. Her wrists dug into her shackles painfully, the metal biting deep into her flesh. Her feet dangled an inch off the floor, her ribs stretching painfully under the pressure of gravity. Senbon were sticking out of her wounds in her shoulders like some kind of macabre pin cushion, the chakra points expertly probed to leave no blood; only pain with every swing from a stagnant draft from the cell door.<p>

Suna seemed to be incredibly good at torture.

She was a prisoner of war. No matter how badly the Kazekage wanted to put her six feet underground for nearly killing his brother, he had no political power to do so. If they were to try to resolve the issue peacefully, it would be pertinent to keep her alive as a bargaining tool. She was on the edge of death, yes, but it was enough to ensure she wouldn't be a threat to the people of Sunagakure. After all, it was enough just to keep her alive, ulike the men and women in her army. The thought of their bodies blending with the sands of her land sickened her.

Over 1,000 men; slaughtered like cattle for ritual. Although she was upset over the loss of so many people, she didn't need to dwell on it for long. Father would have a new army at the ready within a few weeks. Their village grew nearly by the day, many missing-nin and civilians alike curious about the powerful village and the Scroll that was in its possession. Although she had studied it for only a short time thanks to her Aunt Junko, that was all the time Akemi needed to copy direct techniques to a special place where no one would find. After all, she would need to reference lessons on occasion while she was learning, right? You can't perfect something without practice.

Akemi stayed suspended in her horrific crucifix, a small smirk on her lips. If only the Kazekage knew where the copy was… That would be MUCH easier to obtain than the actual Scroll.

If only, if only…

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><p>All is quiet, all is peaceful…<p>

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><p>"When will he open his eyes?"<p>

"It's tough to say," responded the medic-nin, her eyes downcast towards her leader and his sister. "He hasn't shown much progress in movement, but his brainwaves are becoming stronger and stronger. I can't expect it to be much longer."

Gaara bit back his emotions and stared through the glass of the intensive care unit Kankuro was sleeping in. The tubes jutted every which way from his body, leaving him resembling a marionette like the ones he so loved to create. All he wanted to do was enter and sit by his side. He wanted to be one of the first people he saw when he woke up. Something inside Gaara twinged at his heartstrings; was this love? Fear? Pain?

He turned to face Temari, who fiddled her fingers in an old necklace that Kankuro had gotten her for her 12th birthday. Her green eyes were glossy with hidden tears, her shoulders slumped against the back of her chair. Temari had removed his caked on makeup the night before, gingerly running her fingers over his marred skin. As she had scrubbed under his eyes, she quickly realized the dark marks under his eyelids wasn't paint. She sometimes forgot that her brother was only 22 and not 40 with a midlife crisis like he acted.

She had held his hands and scrubbed at the blood under his nails, washed it from his hair, clothed him in clean hospital garments; she felt like she was four again, swaddling her baby brother for his nap.

Except, she didn't know when this nap would be over.

"We need to call for the Haruno girl," Temari whispered under her breath. "He needs to wake up. We can't just not do anything! He needs her!" She faced her brother, letting the tears freely stream. She didn't care if it wasn't the ideals of a General of the Suna ninja force; this was her brother, not just some comrade who had been injured in battle.

Gaara turned once again to face the still form of his brother, the chest of the latter rising and falling mechanically with every pump of the machine helping him to stay alive.

"I'll send word immediately."

* * *

><p>Sakura, Naruto, Kakashi and Shikamaru sped through the desert at top speeds. Tsunade had woken Sakura from her sleep with a messenger hawk exclaiming for her immediate need in Suna as Kankuro had been deathly injured by a rogue ninja ambush. She had assigned Naruto as her guard (also since he had been bugging her for months about a mission to Suna to see his old friend, Gaara), Kakashi as the Captain and Shikamaru as a political delegate between the two nations.<p>

Sakura could only imagine what kind of trouble the puppet master could have gotten himself into this time. She hadn't been told what kind of damage had been given; only that he had dealt with someone who could be considered Sasori's indirect "student" or "pupil". She knew he didn't quite deal with Sasori well in the first place thanks to the poison and quick movements. Could this pupil have done the same kind of damage?

"I hope that make-up wearing bonehead's alright," Naruto shot out quickly. "I mean, he's kind of important in Suna now, isn't he? Also, he's Gaara's brother, so that's gotta mean something."

"We can only hope, Naruto-kun," Sakura let out bitterly. "From what I know, it doesn't look good."

"Kankuro-san is a shinobi, much like you and I. If there's anything I know for sure, it's that he has a will to live just as we do. Hopefully all he needs is a little coaxing from Sakura-chan," Kakashi muttered through his mask darkly. He obviously wasn't keen on the puppeteer's condition either.

"Troublesome…" Shikamaru let out hastily, letting out a puff of cigarette smoke from his lungs. "That bastard interrupted my evening of sunset watching and shogi."

"You watch a sun set too many times, it just becomes 6 PM, Shikamaru-kun!" Sakura let out. "Besides, aren't you happy to be let out of the village? Since the war ended, you've been cooped up like a bird. A change of scenery would be nice for you."

The shadow master muttered out something like "troublesome woman" under his breath.

"Kakashi-sensei…" Naruto paused in his tracks, looking directly at the sand. "Do you smell that?"

Kakashi stepped beside his pupil. "Blood. And a lot of it. We must be heading in the right direction."

The group continued onward towards the site of the battle.

* * *

><p>Sweet bliss….<p>

* * *

><p>Akemi heard her cell door creak open. She didn't bother raising her head. It took too much effort. She clamped her fingers tighter around her chains and gritted her teeth. Her heart sped up slightly at the sound of footsteps approaching her.<p>

She couldn't help but laugh at her own weakness.

Days ago, she would have snarled in the face of a poison-laden katana and a bear of a man that wielded it. Now, she simply trembled at a mere man's footsteps.

Gloved fingers reached beneath her jowls and lifted her face sharply. She kept her eyelids sealed shut and her lips gritted tightly together. She felt the fingers around her neck smooth over her cheeks, the leather sending crawling trails down her spine. A dark chuckle was emitted as they shook her gently by her chains.

She let out a whimper in distress.

"Ahh there's something you don't hear every day," the sickly, sweet voice, one she hadn't heard before, snarled out. "Like the coo of a dove. I never knew a Tori no Suna witch had the capacity to make such a noise."

A sharp crack shuddered around the room, the skin on the side of her bicep. She let out a breathy moan in retaliation. "I _live _for this shit. Nothing you do can hurt me!" she bit at her torturer. "My father put me on the brink of death simply for spilling his wine. Nothing you Suna scum can do can come anywhere close to that."

The gloved hand reach back around her neck and squeezed painfully. "Oh yeah? How about the wrath of a sibling. Can THAT come anywhere close?"

_Shit._

Temari, her torturer, continued to grip onto her neck and shake her. She gasped at the lack of air, craving for the element to rush down her lungs. Fresh blood spewed from old wounds on her wrists, the hot liquid running down her skin made the hair on her neck crawl. She kept her eyes closed.

"You think you can do that to my brother and LIVE? I don't care what Gaara says, or what the elders says. You will be MY kill. I can swear that, Nakahara Akemi. You will die by my fan by the time you leave here."

Air rushed back into her windpipe, so painfully she gagged on the sweet feeling. By the time her fit ended, the door had already slammed shut against the door jam.

Akemi smiled.

And laughed.

* * *

><p>"What the HELL!?" Naruto screamed at the wind, covering his ..nose.<p>

The smell was nearly tangible to his senses. The scent of decay, death and destruction was riddled in the air, but there was nothing there. No blood. No bodies. Nothing.

Just the shifting sands.

He dug his nails through the ground, pulling up clean sand with every grasp.

"This can't be real! This had to be where the attack was! There's nothing here! Not even a drop of blood."

"Bodies aren't the carcasses here, Naruto-kun," Kakashi said grimly, pointing towards a large shape looming on the horizon. They sped towards the thing, finding a dismantled ship slowly moving with the dunes. The sails were inflated as the heavy desert winds pushed it at a ghastly slow pace.

Shikamaru jumped a top the ship cautiously, letting on the tips of his toes touch the surface. After scouting the area, a quick "clear" came above the howling wings. Sakura and Kakashi quickly jumped on board while Naruto kept at a walking pace next to it. The ninja walked up and down the thing, finding nothing but cherry wood and holes for aerodynamics.

"Nothing," Kakashi muttered. "Not a single detail."

"Not quite," Sakura murmered. She stepped towards the pulpit of the ship, the needle point of the bow jutting into the air like a broken flagpole. An amber-gold liquid dripped slowly from the tip.

"Jackpot," she yelled, grabbing a vial from her medical pouch She tapped a few of the lingering, golden drops into the glass and pocketed it. "If there's still poison dripping from that tip, there needs to be a vat of it somewhere on this ship."

"We don't have the time to search," Shikamaru drawled out. "We need to make a break for Suna, although it would be—"

"GUYS. UP AHEAD! I'M GONNA GO CHECK IT OUT!" Naruto shouted towards them before speeding off.

"NARUTO! NO! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS!" Kakashi screamed after him, quickly dismounting from the ship to chase the jinchuuriki. Sakura and Shikamaru looked at each other quickly before following at a rapid pace behind.

By the time that they reached Naruto, he was kneeling on the ground in front of three large puppets: Karusu, Kuroari, and Sanshuo. He grabbed the mechanical hand of Kuroari and shuttered.

"A puppet master wouldn't leave his puppets behind for the enemy to find. What happened to him that he would ditch them?" Naruto's voice was thick with sadness. "How badly was he hurt?"

"That's why we need to get to Suna," Shikamaru drawled deeply, exhaling the held nicotine in his lungs. "We need to heal Kankuro before things get worse."

"Then what do we do with his puppets, Shikamaru-kun? We can't take them with us, but we can't just leave them here; not without something to seal them in. They're too heavy even for me," Sakura muttered under her breath, pulling her shirt over her nose. The sand was beginning to whip painfully.

Screeching filled the air and suddenly, Sanshuo exploded into a million pieces.

Kakashi stood behind the puppet, splinters flying every which way. "Destroy them. Leave no evidence."

Naruto shuddered. "Sensei?! Why? Why did you do that?!"

"We can leave no evidence of Kankuro's work, Naruto-kun," he said matter-of-factly, his Chidori fizzing away from his gloves. "As a puppet master, he would most likely be more inclined to keep his secrets safe from others finding them. These Tori no Suna, as they're called, have a scroll that contains the secrets of puppet jutsu. If they discover Kankuro's techniques, all of the work that he had done until that point would be moot and insignificant. His tricks would be revealed and there would be nothing that he could do about it. He'd be a sitting duck in battle with everyone knowing the secrets to his puppets."

Naruto grimaced. Sakura turned her eyes sadly towards Kuroari and Karusu. Two, beautiful pieces of art. She clenched her fist and struck. Kuroari joined his brother, littering the sands around them.

Naruto stood, full of ill content, but drew a Rasengan to send Karusu to join his siblings.

_I'm so sorry, you three,_ Naruto thought as the sands quickly covered the small pieces of shrapnel that were left of the puppet triplets. _It's for the good of your master. For the good of all of Suna._

The group stood above the carcasses of Kankuro's most prized possessions before sprinting off towards Suna with a new burst of energy.

* * *

><p>Nakahara Kojiro sat with his hands over his temples, eyes closed in thought. When Tajiro came to him last night saying that Akemi hadn't returned, he couldn't say he was surprised; just disappointed.<p>

Of course he had expected his daughter to be successful against the Stronghold Army. He had personally trained her to be a killing machine, a masterpiece in the art of warfare. Even since she was a young girl, after watching her Aunt be dragged away by his fists to exile for treason, Akemi had become desensitized to the sight of blood; the feeling of pain. Sometimes, her cold demeanor even go to _him, _watching her take hit after hit from backfires of her puppets, whether gargantuan or more speed-designed in nature. She did as she always had done; gritted her lips and smiled.

His wife, Seka, entered his tent and stood watching her husband with great distress. At a young 37, the red head didn't look a day over 20. Many times, she and Akemi were mistaken as sisters, something that had annoyed the younger for as long as he remembered. Now, Seka looked haggard, the disappearance of her oldest and only daughter bringing sleepless nights upon her violet eyes.

"My husband, are we not going to go after her," she asked with batted breath. Seka was faithful and loyal, never questioning Kojiro's judgment on any occassion. Hearing her discontempt for the situation now was something he hadn't heard before in her. He stared at her darkly with turquoise beams.

"Never have I heard you speak out to me, Seka," he grumbled from his beard, standing to a full height of six feet, six inches. A golden string of chakra leaped from his fingers, entangling itself around his wife's neck. Seka, shocked, fell to the ground as the pure energy cut off her oxygen supply and burned her skin.

"My last wife spoke out to me once. Do you know what I did to her?" Kojiro slowly stepped towards his wife, her mouth opening and closing like a bass, her cheeks staining blue.

"I cut out her tongue and forced her to wear it as a necklace."

Violet eyes trembled and teared. Turquoise orbs held steady.

Golden chakra released its hold from its captive. Seka dropped to the ground, slow to move with her fiery hair showered around her face. She stayed bowed to her husband.

"I… Shall not ask…. Again," she trembled, emotion and pain staining her vocal chords. Kojiro left the tent, the cold air of morning greeting his weary bones.

He would find his daughter. He would take her home from that monster.


	6. The Darkness Consumes All

The Konoha squad found themselves before the walls of Suna by sunrise. Their escort greeted them warily before leading them towards Suna's hospital. Sakura was already in the process of tying her hair back as they entered through the front of the building. Naruto, Kakashi and Shikamaru held back as she sped away towards the awaiting Kankuro. They could hear her ferocious barks from nearly a floor away.

"Troublesome woman," Shikamaru muttered, curling his arms across his chest. _But one hell of a medic, that's for sure._

"Sakura's the best of the best, believe it!" Naruto grinned out. "She'll get Make-Up Man up and at'tem before you know it!" The fox boy made it well known that he was very proud of the female member of his team. He admired her, cherished her, LOVED her more than anyone could imagine; it was only common sense that the pride he exuded was nearly palpable in such a dire situation. He had full faith in Sakura's ability to heal Kankuro.

"Yeah, but she IS human, Naruto," Shikamaru bit out with hard eyes. "Everyone makes mistakes. I'll admit it, she's good, but she's no Tsunade-sama. Plus, Kankuro might not even make it past her original treatment. I heard that he—"

"That he what, you ignorant runt of a jonin?"

Shikamaru clammed up. His shoulders slumped. Oh no.

_That voice. That goddamned voice. _

He turned slowly. As soon as his eyes were to make contact with the holder of the voice, a black plank greeted him instead. There was no time to cover. The wood made immediate contact with his face, throwing his feet from beneath him as he crashed into the wall behind him. He didn't open his eyes, didn't BREATH; even though a potted plant perched precariously on his spiked head was leaking dry soil onto his face.

Temari grabbed the diplomat by the collar of his flack jacket and brought his face close to her own. "Say one more thing about Kankuro, Pineapple Head, and I swear to Kami, you're going to be six feet underground before noon, you got that?"

Gaara's assistant, Matsuri, flitted between her master's sister and the petrified jonin. "Maa, maa Temeri-donno! You don't want to hurt Shikamaru-san more than his already is, right? Besides, they're our guests! They just arrived and must be tired! If you hurt him, it'll only give Gaara-donno more to do and you know how cranky he gets with paperwork!"

Temari gave an angry glare towards the small kunoichi, who shirked down at the sight of the blonde's blazing viridian orbs. She huffed and turned away, her hands wrapped around the back of her head. "Psh, asshole started it."

Naruto immediately rushed towards his friend, lending him a hand to stand. Shikamaru stood on wobbly knees. "T-thanks…"

Naruto leaned in close to his friend, whispering in his ear. "I wouldn't talk about Make-up for a while if I were you… 'Specially not around her…"

Shikamaru didn't need the jinchuuriki to tell him. He was going to stay away from that hellion if it was the last thing that he did on this planet.

Temari turned to Kakashi, her face relaxing at the sight of the copy ninja. At least there would be one sane person she could communicate with. "Gaara wanted to thank you all for coming here so quickly. He's been… Preoccupied, with Kankuro. He's just not himself since we had brought him back."

"Completely understandable," Kakashi responded quietly. "But, we do need to see Gaara-donno before we can continue on with anything. We know that Kankuro is in Sakura's capable hands, but we need to know exactly what happened and what to expect."

Temari nodded. "Of course. Only, the ones that know the details about what happened out there are Kankuro and the prisoner he brought back with him." She bit out that word, _prisoner_, like it was the poison in her little brother's blood stream. "You might have a better chance of questioning her than waiting for him to wake up. You're going to need Gaara or my permission, though."

Temari spun on her heel, sheathing her fan on her back before shuffling down the hall, a natural sway to her step. The Konoha ninja followed quickly behind towards the infirmary.

* * *

><p>He had really done it this time. Sakura was immediately sweating the second that she walked into the room. Kankuro was pale, his cheeks sunken in, the bags under his eyes nearly purple even though he was already unconscious for three days. Sakura racked her mind for information, taking in his symptoms and hoping to match it to a certain, specific poison.<p>

She came up with nothing.

"Shit. Someone give me details."

The ninja around her rambled off stats that meant nothing to her. Falling blood pressure, increasing brain activity yada yada yada. Wait. _Increasing?_

"Wait, go back. You mean his brainwaves have been _going up?_"

"Aye Sakura-sempai," a woman responded, handing her the charts. Sure enough, the curve of the graph showed increasing brain waves. What in the world was that?

She thrust the vial of golden liquid into the hands of the same medic in payment for the charts. "I took this from a ship that we had found in the sands. If this is the poison that's in Kankuro, we need to find something to dilute it immediately. At least if it's a variant, I can work around it to save him. Make it FAST." There was no sugar to her voice.

"Hai sempai!"

Sakura approached the bed quickly, placing a small hand on the clammy, tanned forehead of the puppeteer. Just from a simple touch, she could immediately tell that he was suffering from a high fever. _Fevers cause hallucinations. Hallucinations could happen when a patient is unconscious. Is that what the scan picked up on?_ She could only hope.

Slowly, she worked her chakra down his body. She felt out every crevice, every nook, every cranny. Each result said the same thing: blocked. Every SINGLE chakra pathway had been blocked. There was nothing running through Kankuro's system other than his slowly thinning blood. Not a single ounce of chakra flowed through his skin.

_Fuck._

Kankuro would be dead within by nightfall if she didn't do anything.

"GET ME THAT FUCKING ANTIDOTE, DAMN IT."

She sealed her hands fastidiously onto his skin and began her slow, painful clearing of his pathways without the lubrication of the antidote. He wouldn't mind the after soreness. If he lived to feel it, that is.

Tired, green eyes watched from the window as the pinkette began her work. She was his only hope now.

* * *

><p>Something warm flowed over his skin. He couldn't figure out what it was, but he didn't mind it in the least. It was fuzzy and soft, kind of like what he imagined the hair on that Inuzuka kid's dog-wolf-thing would feel.<p>

The sensation drifted down from his head all the way to his toes, wrapping him gently in total safety. He had never felt so relaxed. Not since the before the war. Not since his _childhood, _wrapped in the arms of his mother.

Mother. Karura. Someone whose name was nothing but an engraved word in a family photo album somewhere in the depths of the Kazekage's mansion. She didn't exist in his own home anymore. He had stored away all of those family photos with good ol' dad. She didn't exist anywhere but his memories. Her dirty blond hair, her violet eyes, a gentle smile and such _smooth_ hands. Even with all of the work she had done around the house, her hands were always as smooth as the silk scarf around her neck. Kankuro was always mesmerized by those hands.

For now, he would just float on here in the warmth, imagining those smooth hands clenched loosely around his body. Those beautiful, beautiful hands…

* * *

><p>Naruto spotted his old friend nearly immediately. Gaara was staring intently through the window of a hospital room, many people rushing in and out of a door just past him. His hair had grown just a tad longer since the war, but otherwise, his features were still the same; the same, stern posture, lips drawn into a straight line. The same red tattoo perched above his eyebrow.<p>

"Gaara!"

He didn't turn immediately. In fact, he didn't turn for the first minute of the blond yelling his name. He didn't do anything but let his sand vibrate around him dangerously. It fizzled with electricity at the bottom of his heels, slithering like poisonous snakes; like the dragons that had encircled his city. He was agitated, worried, but overall, _confused_. Temari furrowed her eyebrows. _Oh Gaara…_

Naruto gritted his teeth had begun to stride towards his complacent friend when Kakashi held out an arm towards his student. "Not now, Naruto. Gaara-donno will acknowledge you sooner or later. Just give him time."

Shikamaru had taken a seat against the wall, eyes closed with his hands behind his head. Naruto gave a worried look towards his friend. _It'll be alright. It'll all be okay._

* * *

><p>He heard the raspy voice of his closest friend, but he didn't actually <em>hear. <em>It was an odd experience for Gaara. After hearing everybody's yells and screams as he dismantled them on battlefield after battlefield, he couldn't even distinguish the difference in those tones from his friend's greeting. There WAS no difference. Naruto yelling his name was the same sound as an injured Kankuro yelling for him as a clay bird and it's blond, Akatsuki master whisked him away.

It brought the same amount of anger.

He felt a small pressure on his shoulder, causing him to jump. Nearly immediately, his sand responded to attack the unwanted touch, only to have a gush of air wash over his face. A warmth enveloped him nearly immediately as strong arms wrapped tightly around his torso.

He had imagined if this was how his mother's arm would feel; protective and safe. That the tendrils of comfort radiating around him came from her gentle hands. That they would take these thoughts away from his head. The constant worry. The _pain_. Gaara was never one to FEEL pain, emotional nor physical. There was no need for such weakness. He just needed to sink into the warmth, that familiar warmth

A swift punch cracked against the side of his face.

He crumbled.

* * *

><p>"NARUTO."<p>

The blonde stalked Gaara, who was currently sitting with his head lolled to the side of his chest; a rag doll. He lifted the Kazekage by his collar, lifting his feet from the floor.

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ALMOST DID? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU GAARA?!"

Gaara only stared, his cheek beginning to darken nearly to the color of the bags below his eyes. It swelled painfully against his pallid skin. Naruto shoved the man back down to the floor and huffed, muttering something below his breath.

"I don't need your observations, Naruto. I can do so on my own."

The jinchuuriki spun on his heel. "Oh really? You don't need me? Then find someone else. Why don't you ask Matsuri-chan then, huh? I'm sure _she'd _help."

Kakashi scowled towards his pupil and Shikamaru looked as if he wanted to crawl into the deepest crack in the adobe walls of the hospital. Gaara let his eyes wander about the hall. Where WAS Matsuri? And Temari?

"Oh wait, that's right. You tried to _strangle her with your fucking sand, you baka._"

He had WHAT.

He stared incredulously. There was no way. He hadn't done anything wrong. The warmth had stopped him before he could do anything drastic. He would NEVER hurt Matsuri. Never in his years of existing would he ever think to lay a single FINGER on his pupil.

Naruto kept rambling. "It was as if you completely reverted, Gaara! Like you were with Shukaku again! You didn't even look at her when you did it! If I didn't sock you in the face when I did, you would have choked her out! WHAT -"

"The warmth."

Naruto stopped. Gaara had drawn into himself, his eyes distant and barren. "The _rage._ I couldn't stop it. I knew I had felt it before once upon a time. It seemed so kind to me. So gentle. I didn't know… I didn't know-" _I could feel this way about another person who I tried to kill dozens of times in my childhood. I didn't know I could be so WORRIED about someone who was never anything more than a punching bag to me. I didn't KNOW that I could FEEL. _

A different warmth covered him with the sound of swishing cotton. Vanilla and light lavender overcame his senses. He slumped into the new figure, something familiar about this apparition that appeared in front of him, maybe the red vest, or the scrubs over their chest. He was calm. He rested his eyes.

* * *

><p>Sakura had sensed the chakra flare from inside of her operating room. She didn't pay much attention to Naruto or his angry aura; she expected him to over react at the Kazekage's distance. What she didn't expect though was Gaara's <em>shaking. <em>It was as if his body was confused and his energy didn't know how to follow. She could nearly feel his breathing hitch in his throat as he had sank into his abyss of his thoughts.

"Take over for me."

A medic, now equipped with a semi potent antidote, scrambled to take his sempai's position as she shot from the room. She spun past a confused Naruto and immediately dropped to Gaara's height, sending stabilizing chakra his way through her fingers. His head hit her shoulder and she knew he was blissfully unconscious. She stroked his back carefully, his still trembling fingers clenching into her vest, slowly relieving their rigor mortis.

Kakashi and Shikamaru approached the situation quietly, taking Gaara's now limp form from the medic and whisking him away to another room. Naruto gave a questioning look to his counterpart. "What happened to him, Sakura-chan? He was fine! There was nothing wrong."

She gave him a sharp look, her eyes like daggers. "There was absolutely SOMETHING wrong with him, Naruto. If I could feel the difference in energy from another ROOM, there was ABSOLUTELY something wrong." She stood up quickly and jabbed a finger in his direction. "I know you've heard this before, but you don't understand what is happening to him! I don't, Kakashi-sensei doesn't, Shikamaru-kun doesn't; the only one that knows and can understand him right now is Temari, and she needs to find a way to talk to him. He just needs _time_ and not your constant _pestering_!"

Naruto clammed up immediately.

"But," she continued on with a sigh. "I know you want to help. I know you do, but there… There just isn't anything you can do… You can only sit and be patient. I know you're really bad at it, but please, just try for me?"

She began to walk back into the operating room before he could comment.

She wouldn't even let him mention the tear stains on her vest.

* * *

><p>Akemi's door slammed open with a bang. Before she realized what happened, her chains were cut from their supports and her face plummeted to the concrete below her. She spat blood onto the grimy floor, her pained wrists barely able to support her small frame. A hand snaked up her neck, gently stifling her air supply. Gasping, she was lifted to her knees and held there.<p>

"So, this is THE Akemi Nakahara, is it?"

A bored tone, one she hadn't heard before, reverberated throughout her cell. All she could see was his shadow compared to the bright light of the hall. Hold on. If he was over there and she was over here, how was he holding her right now? She hissed towards the new comer's direction, even though the light from the hall was probably more painful than his hold.

"What's it to you, Spikes?" She decided that would be a good enough nickname since the man looked like he had a mace sticking out of the top of his head. _Who styles their hair like that, anyway?_

The man grunted. "Look, I'm not here to hurt you. No need to be defensive. Plus, I'm not even a part of Suna, okay? I just wanna ask a few questions is all."

Akemi stayed silent, her teeth grinding.

"Troublesome…" He began walking forward into the cell. Akemi immediately began her damned trembling. The man stopped. "Why are you shaking? I told you I'm not going to hurt you already."

Akemi snarled. "That damned woman has me trained like a whipped puppy. Footsteps equals punishment. Punishment equals pain. I might not be a stranger to it, but no human wants to feel pain. Not even me." Her volume lowered as she had continued to speak.

The hand around her neck loosened just enough to let her sit comfortably on the floor. The footsteps started again, and so did her shaking. The man, his face now clearly visible, sunk to her level a few feet away. "I'm not going to hurt you if you cooperate, alright? I'm doing this for that tired hound. She's not in any condition to come down right now. 'Got too much to deal with up top, you know? Now again, I'm not gonna hurt you if you won't hurt me, you got it?"

Akemi stared hard at his features. Dark brown eyes matched his dark, spiked ponytail and his expression just reaked of impatience, boredom and too much knowledge. He smelt of leftover cigarette smoke and grass on his clothing, one scent more familiar than the other. She smirked.

"Spikes, you gotta promise me one thing." She stared hard into his features.

The man sat down and rubbed his head. "I don't know if I can PROMISE per say, but I can give it my best shot."

"Get your damn back up away from here or tell them to join the party. One of them wants to chew my damned head off, I know it."

Spikes taken aback, turned towards the door and sighed. "Jig's up Kakashi. Naruto."

Another two figures, both male entered the room. One was a heterochromic with one eye dark as ink and the other as red as blood, a calculating look on his masked face. Sizing her up. The second, the one that wanted to throttle her, was dressed in a bright orange and black jumpsuit with almost as obnoxious yellow hair. _Oh jeez. That doesn't help blending in, does it? _She eyed the hitae'ate.

"Ahhh, Konoha shinobi. Welcome to my cage," she greeted frankly. Her hands mingled with her bloodied wrists, the sensations sending shivers of pain down her spine. "Enjoy your stay."

The grey haired, heterochromic took a quite step closer. "Shikamaru-kun is right when he says we mean no harm, Akemi-san. We were just meant to keep the both of you safe if anything was to happen."

"Safe my ass. Nothing you could do could save me from future punishment from the Kazekage or his bitch of a sister. I have no reason to attack. You're not my order."

The blonde stayed silent. She eyed him warily. He was going to be trouble if she needed to withhold them. She scoffed.

"I don't think either of YOU are going to hurt me, but blondie bear over there doesn't feel too peachy keen on being in the same room with me, do ya short stuff? Got anything to throw into the open?"

The blonde bit his lip, trying to contain himself. He looked towards his superior, the grey haired one, who gave him a nod. He stepped forward.

She couldn't stop trembling. There was no way. Why did her big mouth always get her into these kinds of situations?! Why couldn't it just shut up for once?

He crouched even lower to her than Spikes, or "Shikamaru", and stared at her dead in the eyes with those sapphire jewels. "Why?"

She just stared.

"Why? Because I was told to."

The boy stared back. She could feel his chakra, dangerous and strangling, surrounding her body. "Because you were told to…" he whispered through gritted teeth.

"I'm not different than any of you shinobi, you know. We of the Tori no Suna are given orders. We follow them or we die. Whether we die in battle or we die for treason for failing and NOT dying in battle, it doesn't matter. You don't have a choice when you're in my line of work."

"But you DO." He only continued to stare. "You don't have to stay there. You can leave! It's a rogue village! You could join a village! Use your powers for good and-"

"For GOOD? You think that your _people _do GOOD?" She exploded. "All you do is cause PAIN and SUFFERING to people like mine. There is nothing but blood and rubble where many rogue villages used to stand! I've moved almost 5 times, trying to rebuild what was destroyed! My home is my home! And like you try to protect your precious Konoha, I try to protect mine. These _people_ tried to take something very important from us; the only thing that sustains us. You think we could just sit back and let them try again? Let them destroy everything that we had ever BUILT? I would NOT stand for that son of a bitch Kazekage coming into OUR village, tearing down OUR homes, killing OUR children and making off with the only thing that we've been blessed to hold!" She paused to have bloody coughs erupt from her lungs. "See? How are we any different? We bleed blood. We scream. We shout. We cry. We live. We die. It's a pitiful life, but it's a life that I chose to live to keep invaders like _you_ away from the people that I love. That's all I can say…"

And finally, Akemi was silent. She let lightheadedness, hunger and pain finally overcome her.

* * *

><p>Violet. Violet. VIOLET.<p>

_Violent._

It was the only color Kankuro could see. The color of the feathers, of his face paint, of her _eyes. _Those eyes that burned so ferociously, they gave their owner the strength needed to pull creatures dozens of times her size by her fingertips. She struck down shinobi after shinobi, friend after friend, civilian after civilian. There was NOTHING but fire, the smell of iron and burning left behind those fucking eyes.

He tried to close his own, but the feeling of insects crawling across his skin kept him squirming over the heat on his skin. That previous, loving warmth of his mother had melted into a stifling oven under his skin. The hottest Suna day had NOTHING on this hellfire. He couldn't breathe; couldn't think. His arms flailed in the fire of those eyes, those so very familiar eyes, shining in utter delight from his pain. He clambered and kicked and screamed, but nothing would block him from the persecution of those eyes. It was as if they would burn holes through his body.

Kankuro was trapped. There was no escape. He stopped his movements. He stopped his struggle. He let his world burn. He couldn't. He couldn't…

* * *

><p>"NO!"<p>

The monitor ceased. Sakura quickly cancelled her poison extraction, the antidote leaping out of her fingers. The last remnants of her chakra thrust itself into his system to try kick-start his heart like jumper cables. One second it was beating, albeit weakly, but BEATIING, and then next, went directly into v-fib.

Sakura sent pulse after pulse into his chest, hoping, PRAYING that something would trigger an SA node. That some Purkinje fiber would strum to life. Anything. She couldn't let him go. She wouldn't. She couldn't bear to see Gaara cry again.

* * *

><p>A wave.<p>

If Kankuro knew what a wave had FELT like, what a cool, sweet oasis was like if they actually existed, it would be like this.

His skin soothed, his blood simmered down. His arms and legs fought again, sprung with a new life. He kicked up, swinging his arms rapidly to feel himself rising. He peered above him, seeing the eyes, those violet eyes, closed and weeping. The cool tears dropped onto his form and he continued to kick up, regaining energy with each propulsion.

Suddenly, he broke the surface.

* * *

><p>The monitor beeped.<p>

Eyes fluttered. Sakura sighed. That flutter was the first movement Kankuro made in his three days of unconsciousness. She stopped, leaning over the operating table. That was it. That last surge of inhuman chakra that she gave disintegrated the last bits of poison in his system.

All they had to do was wait.

"Alright all. I think we've done it!"

She collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.

* * *

><p>Gaara sat up right. He had felt it. <em>Felt<em> it within him. Kankuro was alive. He was there. He was with them.

The Kazekage shot up from his bed and shot to the hospital like a red streak in the darkness of night.

* * *

><p>Temari smiled. <em>There you are, you knucklehead. You fucking ass. You worried your big sister nearly half to death...<em>

She curled back into her sheets, the body next to her wrapping their hands securely around her waist. He would get a piece of her mind in the morning, only after the greatest wake up sex that she could ever imagine from a certain lazy jonin.

* * *

><p>HOHOHO MERRY TURKEYDAY!<p>

Well, almost!

Here's a nice little update for you all to chew on! Kankuro's back and a little of Akemi was revealed. Oh, and Temari's doing the hanky panky with Pineapple Head, but what's new? J We'll see where this goes next!

Until next time!

Epsilion


	7. A Bird on the Wall

It fucking _hurt._

When he opened his eyes, Kankuro couldn't even focus. The lights and pristine white walls burned straight to the back of his retina. His brain felt as if it was going to implode beneath the bones of his skull and squeeze out of every facial orifice that wasn't plugged with tubing. Not only did he feel like a human pressure cooker, but his arms and legs were completely immobilized by large casts surrounded by metal rods. He moaned and tried to roll himself to a more comfortable position beneath the covers.

"Ahh! You're up?"

Too cheery. What was it, a fucking holiday? He didn't open his eyes again and only continued to try to huddle under his duvet.

"Easy, Kankuro-san. No need to hide. My work here is mostly done."

He pulled the sheets with his teeth. He had _heard_ that voice before. He knew it was friendly, but something about this medic's tone didn't sit with him well. "Mostly?" His voice was raspy and dry. He had no clue those noises could come from HIM…Decrepit. Broken_. Old._

His peered over the tips of his quilt to find none other than Sakura Haruno at his bedside. She had grown a little since he had last seen her. Her figure was more womanly and her eyes shone with intellect and compassion, her strawberry hair twisted in a ponytail high atop her head. She sat down on the corner of the bed and tapped on his leg casts with chipped fingernails. "Yup. Just have to fix up your bones. You should be able to walk and move your arms after one final treatment. But, I'll have to warn you. It'll probably hurt even though you're packed full of morphine and have a spinal block in place to keep you from moving."

Kankuro let the scowl on his face do the talking. He was on _morphine_ and he _hurt this much?!_

Sakura gave him a sorry look and patted him on the side of the foot. There was only tingling and vibrations at the contact. "Might as well get this over with… Sorry in advance Kankuro-san…"

If he thought his voice sounded horrible before, it was going sound like a trash compactor after the pinkette was done with him.

* * *

><p>"And why can't I see him," Gaara growled, arms crossed and forehead creased in confusion. He had given the Konoha medic the time that she had requested with Kankuro. There was no reason why he shouldn't be able to see his brother yet. "You said he was conscious."<p>

"Well, erm, _was_ is the key word there Kazekage-sama," she muttered, a hand rubbing through her hair. "There was some, er, complications to the last treatment… He should be awake and moving in a few more hours."

Gaara furrowed his brows. Complications? What had she meant?

The medic was sweating slightly, the perspiration dripping down the side of her cheek. Although Gaara no longer contained the Shukaku and was an incredible friend to Naruto, she still couldn't help but feel about intimidated with his gloomy and nearly hostile aura. Even though she had come to like Suna and the people inside its walls, memories of her first chunnin exam always lingered in the back of her mind. The blood lust. The fury. She could never forget what Gaara is actually capable of.

Gaara continued to wait as Sakura cleared her dry throat. "Well, he was in a lot of pain from the constant pressure that I put on his bones. He just kind of drifted off to sleep. He should be up soon as I've said before, Gaara-sama. Fully moving and walking just as he was before the accident." Her brow grew stern for a moment. "But remember; I'm not a miracle worker. Don't expect him to go straight back to fighting or heavy training. His internal injuries are stable, but nowhere near healed enough. Give him at least four weeks before returning him to active duty."

Gaara frowned, but sighed in compliance. Four weeks was an awfully long time for his head military general to be out of commission from the battlefield, but it would be a risk he would have to take. Baki could lead the front lines while Kankuro stood back and lead from the Kazekage's Tower. They would make do with his brother's limitations.

The double doors of the entrance creaked open, allowing a certain blonde and his companions to file through. Shikamaru and Kakashi were stoic; no talk, all business, while Naruto's sullen eyes betrayed his own mask. Sakura looked upon the group with creased eyebrows. "What did she say?"

Shikamaru, smelling of tobacco and sweat, wiped his brow. "She's a bit brash; no wonder Temari and she didn't get along. But, she didn't say much. We only asked why she did what she did and all she responded was with that she had orders to destroy the person that strove to destroy her people." His eyes lingered over to Gaara. "Seems to me that they didn't like the little sneak attack you planned on her village, Kazekage-sama."

Gaara looked on. "I didn't seek to destroy; only to simply take back what is rightfully ours."

Kakashi took his turn and leaned against an open door frame. "She made it seem as if she was _defending_ herself and her people. Maybe things didn't go the way that you thought they did, Gaara-dono. Maybe the facts you know aren't facts at all."

The Kazekage took a defensive stance. "Are you saying that my informants are untrustworthy, Kakashi-san?"

"I'm saying you should look at the situation for yourself, Gaara-sama; do your own sleuthing instead of taking other people's words. Anyone could be influenced by outside sources." He paused for a moment, whipping out his newest copy of Icha Icha from seemingly nowhere. "At least, do so before torturing your prisoners for days on end in a cold cell, hanging from a ceiling by their wrists." His eye crinkled in a smile, but his words held venom beneath their vowels.

Sakura blanched at the last comment. Could Suna be so positively medieval? She quickly shook the image from her mind of a body, hanging, swaying from a ceiling with their carpals nearly detached and their legs hanging flaccid beneath a torso.

A crucifixion. The most painful and embarrassing of punishments suited for the highest ranking crimes, including the likes of attempted destruction of a hidden village and the near murder of the Kazekage's brother. That Akemi woman must be petrified and appalled at her situation. Who knows what those interrogators and guards did to that young girl.

The medic eyed her blond teammate. Naruto had his lips uncharacteristically sealed tight, his fists balled into themselves. She could tell his teeth were gritted against his cheeks, the cogs in his brain skittering against once another like an ancient clock given motion for the first time in a millennium. "What about you, Naruto? You're a pretty good judge of character on most occasions. What did you see in Akemi-san?"

He stayed silent for a moment before looking her directly in her emerald orbs. "She spoke about something that has been on my mind for quite some time: the difficulty of loyalty. Something she said just kind of hit home with me. She was only doing this as an order; to protect her people under the direct order of a superior. Isn't that just what we as ninja do? We listen to our Kage and don't ask any questions, no rebuttal. I mean, we're high ranking now, Sakura-chan. How many missions have we been sent on that involves killing a person we don't even know? Why do we have to do it? WHY do we have to have their blood on our hands when they've done nothing to anger US?"

He went silent for a moment, unclenching is fists and letting out a gust of air from his chest. Sakura remained silent. She didn't have an answer for her friend's outburst. Dull pools of azure turned to the Kazekage. "I mean, what makes her any different from any of us, Gaara? What makes her any more wrong than you or I? Than any of our brethren? You're a Kage now, and I'm going to be one day. If I can see it, I'm sure you can." He took a step closer to his friend, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Did you really have to do all of that to her? She was only doing her job."

Gaara's face was like stone, his lips set in a line. Akemi Nakahara acted on orders. Orders from her own father to destroy the man that had given his own "orders" of tearing her home apart plank by plank. If Gaara had his way right now, he absolutely WOULD for the pain that they had put family through, especially Kankuro. Even if it wasn't his original intentions, he might take the new accusations into motion. After all, it is just what they expected; the full dismantling of their civilization. He would take Akemi, bring her home, and crush her in front of her bastard father if he could; let her blood run in rivulets in the sand. He would cause her family the pain that they had caused his. The entire core of their little rogue city would crumble at the loss of their heir.

But of course, that was not equivalent exchange. After all, Kankuro HAD lived.

Maybe he would just return her as broken and marred has his brother had.

"I did what Kankuro would have done when the time presented itself, Naruto."

Naruto opened his mouth again, but quickly closed it. He understood. Gaara had slipped. He let his emotions run free at the thought of his brother, who he had just got back in his life, leaving his side forever. He was afraid. He was angry at the woman who left him feeling that way. He took his aggression out on Akemi for his own sake; for his own protection as for his people.

The Kazekage's vision drifted towards the shuttered window of Kankuro's hospital room. What would his brother do in this situation? Most likely throttle the rogue girl; he'd use her as his personal punching bag until she bled from the mouth and was black and blue over every inch of her skin. After that? Who knows. Maybe he'd just kill her. Maybe he'd let her go in the same way that Gaara hoped he would could return her in anyway. Maybe he'd even let her live, an image of health and beauty. Gaara furrowed his forehead. Maybe he didn't quite know Kankuro as much as he thought.

He spun on his heels and headed past the Konoha shinobi to the double doors. Two of his personal ANBU dropped from their hidden positions on the hospitals rafters, much to the surprise of Naruto, who stumbled back in complete surprise and a string of curses. Gaara spoke quietly. "When Kankuro wakes, bring him to my office. As for the girl, bring her as well. Assist my friends from Konoha to the office as well. Make sure her chakra and arms are bound before she even leaves the cell." His hand ghosted on the door. "It's for her own safety."

The tension was palpable. One wrong move from the princess of the Tori no Suna, and Gaara no Sabaku would have her blood entwined with his sands in seconds.

* * *

><p>Akemi's arms stung as she watched the black, chain like markings coil around her swollen wrists and fingers. It was a familiar feeling, a stinging similar to that of the scarification rituals that her father had performed on her as a child. He had taken a hot cylinder of metal straight from the flames of the Phoenix Nest, their sacred prayer pit, and pressed it directly to her skin with no warning. Three times, the searing heat stung under her left eye, burning the bottom portion of her eyelashes from their lid. Her father had made sure to take his time while her lip bled from biting back screams.<p>

From then on, her father had taken her twice a year to get a new scar. Her entire body is lined with intricate mark after intricate mark; even her torso had been burned in beautiful patterns along her obliques and breasts. Her favorites, though, were two dark bands that had singed the skin so deeply at her bicep, the color had never reverted back to a pinky flesh tone; instead, they remained black, the flesh of the dermis permanently scorched. That one hadn't hurt at all. Her father made sure to fry the nerve endings in her skin before any real shock could set in.

At this moment, she felt nothing. The imprints of the ANBU's "chakra" bonds as they called them had finally set into place, leaving behind nothing but the same dull feeling as the scar on her bicep had. She huffed.

"Something wrong, prisoner," one of the men questioned.

"Nothing too serious," she responded lazily, flipping her wrists back and forth to inspect the pattern. "It's just that the design doesn't match the rest of my scars. It sticks out like a sore thumb."

The ANBU eyed her silently before slowly latching heavy gauntlets and chains atop her raw wrists. Her sore shoulders sagged beneath the weight, the atrophied muscles barely able to hold up the metal cuffs. Grunting, she struggled to lift the restraints to her waist. "Is this necessary? I mean, you already bound my 'chakra' or whatever it is you call it… Do you truly think I would ATTACK the most powerful group of ninja in your village right at this very second? I know I'm young, but I'm not stupid."

The ANBU did not respond to her inquisition and simply stared at her blankly. "Stand, prisoner. You're being taken to a meeting with the Kazekage to determine your punishment. I suggest you follow swiftly."

Akemi heaved herself off of the ground, swaying at the weight of her manacles compared to her body. They had to weigh at least a third of what she did currently, her three days of only water and no sustenance not helping in the least. The ANBU walked speedily thorough the dark halls lit only with flickering torches.

Her scabbed feet skid against the sandy ground, her sandals discarded long before she had even entered Suna's walls. Every step rocked her sore body, but she continued to trudge forward. The light from the torches slowly brightened in illumination, allowing her retina to finally readjust to the sight of light. For three days in total suffering, this in itself was probably the greatest thing to have happened to the girl her entire stay in the sandy city. A soft wave of thankfulness washed over her. At least her eyes wouldn't hurt any longer.

The chains softly tinkered behind her as they continued their climb, the concrete bricking of the halls switching to plaster and paint in little less than a door way. The ceilings were now lit by fluorescent lights, the walls a cheery shade of gold with dark purples and maroons lining different pieces of molding. She scoffed. Such ugly colors for such a beautiful piece of architecture. It would have looked much better with different greens and blues. She would need to talk to the interior designer when she overtook this pitiful village.

Two more ANBU arrived at her side the second she exited the tunnels, each one gripping hard at her shoulders. She gasped at the contact, her knees nearly buckling from the pain. Her shoulders and knees were never allowed to recover from Kankuro's swords digging into her like a human shish kabob. The senbon that were kept in her joints prevented such healing from occurring. She gritted her teeth again and took heavy, deliberate steps towards sturdy double doors. She didn't even have time to mock the disgusting pea-green color they were before she was thrown through them head first, her body bouncing off the ground and landing pitifully on her back.

Her eyes were clenched tightly and she slowed her breathing, allowing the slow fire of pain to radiate through her body before she decided to move. She knew she was in a room with people, all with very familiar presences, sans one or two. She started at her toes and slowly moved each part of her body to ensure proper attachment before opening her eyes to generically tiled ceilings and the outline of a hand.

Akemi only stared for a second, allowing the hand to grab at her shackles and haul her up to her knees. The figure knelt beside her to allow her to steady before she found out that the hand was covered by black gloves plated in silver. The long, calloused fingers inside of the material were caught around her chains, allowing them to dangle gently around the nail beds. She caught glimpses of black pants and standard black ninja sandals over wrapped ankles, but she didn't dare look farther. Her chains were tugged gently upwards and she stood, shoulders squared and head raised, towards the Kazekage and his entourage.

* * *

><p>Gaara looked at the haggard heap of bloodied bones before him. He had thought Akemi had looked horrible in the bowels of Kuroari, but now that she was in the light after a few days in a cell, he had been sorely mistaken.<p>

Supported by Hatake Kakashi, the Tori no Suna heir's hair was matted together with grime against her neck, her face bruised and caked in dried rivulets of blood. Her collarbones stuck out perversely from her chest and her legs shook the chains around her ankles just trying to hold the weight of the shackles to her waist. Her cheeks were sunken in and the bruise-like bags under her eyes betrayed the hard expression in her eyes and stone-set lips.

She truly was the walking dead.

He turned his eyes to see Sakura's reaction to the newcomer. Her green orbs were bulging begrudgingly towards him. She spoke first. "Has this woman had ANY medical attention in the three days she's been here, Gaara-sama?"

He waved her off. "She refused to be treated by, and I quote, 'Suna scumbags'." Akemi huffed in amusement, recalling the moment. Temari, who stood beside Gaara, glared diligently at her, manicured fingers squeezing the butt end of her fan hard enough to crack the acrylic.

Sakura gave the Kazekage a dirty look, clicking a hesitant heel towards the woman shackled in chains. Akemi turned her head abruptly towards the pinkette, the brief amusement in her violet eyes long gone. "Don't. Touch me."

"It's alright, Akemi-san," Sakura let out warily, her hands rising to her ears to show no harm. "I just want to clean you up a little while the Kazekage speaks. You've been through a lot and-"

"Don't TOUCH me!" Akemi yelled pulling at her chains and stomping at the girl before her. She didn't need this woman to heal her. She would heal as she always did; on her own with no help from anyone else. Bones will calcify and work themselves to new, operable positions. Wounds will close. Skin will return to normal color. She didn't need this woman to show her pity. Her pride didn't need it.

Sakura jumped slightly at the petite woman's display of aggression. Even battered and broken, she had the power to display her emotions in such a way that showed a certain element of threat. Taken aback, Sakura tried again. "Akemi-san. I'm really not here to hurt you. You've been abused long enough. I'm a medic from Konoha, a neutral land to you and your people. I just want to help you."

She took one more hesitant step. Akemi flung her arms at the medic, but drew them back realizing that no gold strings would be erupting from her fingers anytime soon. "I don't need your help. I don't WANT your help. Your village is friends with THEM, so I could never trust you either, pinky," she snarled, sharpened fangs bared.

There was no way of helping her; you can bring a horse to water, but you can't force it to drink. A frowning Sakura backed to her position next to Naruto, gripping her wrists tightly behind her back in defeat with a sigh. Naruto placed a small hand on her shoulder before turning back to Gaara.

Gaara stood from his seat with both of his hands crossed in front of his chest. "Do you know why you're here, Akemi Nakahara?"

She glared at him. "I'm assuming you're going to judge me of some high crime and string me up in the center square or something like that. What I've done is punishable by death I'm sure." She spat the word 'death' like a curse.

"I'm here to judge you, as are the rest of these people. Death, lucky for you, is not an option if we are to attain what we originally set out to retrieve." Her eyes narrowed at the last comment. "You are here now as a political prisoner, and although I would LOVE to deliver you to the afterlife in the way that you so described, it's out of the question." Gaara's fingers gripped against his bracers. Temari tightened her posture at the notion, her neck twisting in disdain.

"So, what are you gonna do with me then, _Kazekage-sama_," she mocked, her face crunching at every vowel of the honorific, a smirk plastered on her chapped lips. "Probably leave me in that damned cell to rot, huh? I mean, if you can't kill me for killing your brother, I'm sure that's just what you're going to do, you sick fuck. Leave me down there to starve while you and your bitch of a sister come and whip my limbs from my joints until you can reach an agreement with Father. Slowly. You'll take your time with your responses, taking the pleasure in knowing that you have all of the time in the world to do whatever you want with me. To make me suffer the same way _he_ did, huh?"

Temari couldn't hold it any longer. She shot from behind the desk and back-handed Akemi so hard, the woman fell directly to her side with a sharp cry.

"You will show my brother _respect,_ little bitch," she stabbed, jabbing a pointed finger towards the figure on the floor. Akemi ripped herself up from the ground with such ferocity, her newly scabbed shoulder bled crimson. Her face was as red as the welt developing on her cheek, but she said nothing. This was not her place, but she would not be made a fool of. It was a nation against one, but that didn't mean she didn't have pride in herself to be mistreated.

The chains held by Kakashi were drawn tightly in his fingers, his muscles straining at the pressure. He had no clue how this girl, so beaten and bruised, had the strength to cause him to strain as much as he was. She couldn't weigh more than ninety pounds at that point, was easily pulling about two hundred worth against the bonds. _What a strange girl,_ he thought, his fingers gravitating towards his hitae-ate. He drew his hand back to its spot at his side. This girl was exploited enough. He wouldn't aid in her torture.

The tension sizzled between the two women for a moment before Temari swayed back to her brother's side. The man gave his sister a stony glare, in which the blonde simply shrugged off with a flip of her hair. She leaned back against the glass of the floor length windows, a senbon twisting in her left hand playfully.

Akemi stood fully once again, finally taking in a full view her surroundings. The entire group that had entered her cell was in the room, including a very bewildered looking blondie-bear and concerned spike-head. Standing on either side of the Kazekage was his bitch of a sister and that weird, half-curtained man with the red kabuki make-up in the flak jacket. She couldn't remember his name. She only knew he was their teacher. One presence was certainly missing from the picture. She smirked. _'Must have bit the dust. What a pity. No wonder why she snapped, huh?_

"You asked what I'll do with you. You're going to remain a political prisoner as I've said before, under constant surveillance. Your chakra bonds will be in place at all times. You will be unable to use any of your energy to train. You will be a complete, compliant citizen during your time here. There will be no escape. There will be no resistance to any order given to you. If you do not follow these rules, I will be sure to have you killed. I have no problem in destroying everything that you love to take what I need after that." He stayed silent for a moment, surveying her battered form once again. "Although, I did have a request by someone willing to take guard over you to ensure you won't be any issue to this hidden village, which I have granted since I trust this person whole heartedly."

Her eyes narrowed, her hackles rising. Someone requested to watch her? To take care of her and acclimate her to this place? A place where she doesn't belong? Her eyes scanned the room. Was it curtain-man? The Kazekage himself? The sand bitch? She visibly shuddered. She could only hope and pray that it wasn't. Akemi might be able to hold her off while she's in the presence of her brother, but anywhere else without his guardianship?

The woman didn't stand a chance.

"Oh yeah," she challenged quietly. Her lip trembled, betraying her steady eyes. "And who would be stupid enough to do that, Gaara?"

A knock was heard at the door, which creaked opened. Heavy, unsynchronized steps reverberated behind her. She didn't bother to turn around. She could recognize that cocky energy without even batting her eyelashes.

"Me, bitch."

* * *

><p>Kankuro strode into the room free of his casts and mostly pain free. He moved slowly into the room with a slight limp. It wasn't quite noticeable, but just enough to leave him without being able to train for a while much to his dismay. The room was echoing silence as he strode through to the center of the room, standing a body length away from the woman that nearly killed him. He struck a respectful pose to his brother. The girl next to him gawked directly in his direction, her stony royal countenance broken.<p>

"You're putting the guy that I almost _killed_ in charge of me? Dude, are you crazy? You permitted that? What kind of bonehead are you?" she gasped, pointing a skinny hand towards her charge.

Kankuro stood full and tall, his arms bound in military positioning. "Honestly Akemi, I wouldn't be too worried for MY safety." His shoulder twitched. Her erect arm snapped back to her side. "_I _still have my chakra." His mouth curled quietly under a ducked head. "Sucks for you, fucker."

Akemi bit her lip, her cheeks flushed, but her voice remained silent. What she would give to decapitate this man's head and punt if across the desert like a football right at that very second. Even if it meant she had to beg, sell her soul to the devil, sacrifice her first born; she didn't care. She would do any option in a heartbeat.

"Kankuro will be your personal keeper and guard for as long as necessary. I think it's rather proper punishment for the grief you've caused him these past few days, Akemi-san," Gaara muttered, his fingers fumbling with sheets of paper on his desk. "You'll stay within a 10 foot radius of him at all times. He will be your escort to and from various places around the village and help you to acclimate to the area while you are held here. We expect you to be kind and courteous to all civilians as any political prisoner would be." He stared at her hard. "After all, you may be from a foreign place, but you should be familiar with the way Hidden Villages deal with their POWs. I'm sure you understand the extremity of your situation, right?"

Kankuro felt the underlying threat of the last portion, peering over at the girl at his side without moving his head. The tanned woman seemed much smaller than he remembered, both in ego and actual appearance. She came only to his collarbone in height, her small frame resembling more of a pixie than an assassin who preferred deadly, giant puppets to knives and katana. A warmongering, athletic pixie, maybe, but a pixie none the less. Her face was hard, her shoulders even harder, but she only nodded in understanding to his little brother. "Fine."

Kankuro stared at her. Did she just _agree?_ With little less than an argument? What did Gaara and his sister do to this girl to make her break so easily. He decided to press his luck. He cleared his throat towards the girl, who turned her head to stare at him icily. He gave a small nod towards his little brother and a small hand motion. He whispered under his breath, "Honorific, Akemi-_chan_!"

She puffed out her cheeks, her fists shaking the chains in her restraints. "Fine. Kazekage. Sama," she growled robotically between tight teeth. Kankuro grinned ear to ear. Oh. This was going to be _fun._ She was a whipped little puppy in this state and she knew it. She had nowhere to go, no one to turn to; she was on her own. One false move and she knew she was done fore. Akemi Nakahara was at his immediate mercy. He had the power to choose if she lived or died.

He would make her work for her life, that's for sure. Just like Sakura had to work for his.

"Then it's settled," Gaara announced. "Kankuro will guard you until we hear from your father, however long that may take. You will follow all of the rules presented to you or you will be sure to face an untimely death. I hope you enjoy your stay here, Akemi-san." He paused quietly, peering out of the window. The sands had decided to act up, leaving the winds whipping loose grains high in the air. He tried to grin. Prisoner or not, he thought he was doing her a favor. House arrest is much more doable than a dark, musty cell hanging from your wrists.

Akemi turned on her heel, her back to the Kazekage. "I might as well be back in that damned cell, Gaara no Subaku." Her brow furrowed. She bowed slightly. "Thank you for your hospitality at this time."

Temari was in shock. She actually showed _respect_ towards her brother. A bow and a thank you. There was no honorific, but the wind master couldn't be picky. That was a battle to win at a later time. Her jaw was hanging nearly to the floor as Gaara nodded in acceptance. With an extended hand, the chains around her hands and ankles fell to the floor. Akemi let out an audible sigh, her shoulders creaking in relaxation.

"Let that be the first step to your freedom from bondage, Akemi-san," Gaara smirked, before his eyes grew dark as a long index finger jabbed itself at the rogue. "The second you do something to danger someone, they'll be back on for the rest of your stay."

Akemi gave a faint nod, spinning on her heel with a new found joviality despite her broken appearance. She waved back to Kankuro quickly, a coy smile gracing her lips. "Come on, Make-Up. 'Might as well get out of here. Your sister's just about ready to chop my head off with that fan of hers."

huffed as he moved behind his new charge, arms crossed over his chest. "You show my little brother more respect than me! Plus, It's kabuki, not make-up, you goddamned bird brain! Didn't your mother teach you any manners? Oh wait, she probably got sold to some crazy lunatic like his first wife. I wonder what happened to the first group of kids before you, huh? I wonder what happened to them…"

His banter continued, done so with a complete smirk on his face. He was enjoying every second of this. Akemi was completely at his mercy, standing there brows crossed and mouth pulled into a tight line directly in front of him. Her bloody hair was draped over her eyes, her gaze low in submission. Normally, Kankuro wouldn't tease a girl like this, especially a so called "political prisoner", but because of the shit she had put him through and the position that she was currently in, he couldn't let up the opportunity of fucking with her go. It was the LEAST he could do without getting totally physical with her and beating the shit out of her himself.

By that point, Naruto had gotten in the way and silenced him, placing himself between his charge and himself. Kankuro respected the jinchurriki as much as Gaara did, so seeing Naruto move in front of a criminal of their ally, he sputtered to a stop, his face tight at his own final comment once his verbal vomit ended. It was something about not being human. About not having compassion, or love in her heart. Akemi was still looking at him hard, her eyes glassy, but her mouth hard on her jaw. Those violet eyes glared straight into his soul, scalding him, burning him like the strongest whiskey gliding through his body, from his mouth, into his stomach. He didn't dare turn away from them. He couldn't disrespect her like that anymore.

He messed up big time. He didn't WANT to hurt her any more than Gaara had, but the words just spewed out of him like a faucet. That was punishment enough. Now, here he was, adding insult to injury, salt on an open wound. Who was he to do this to her? He got a little hurt, so what? Did he really have the _right _to hurt her more than he already had?

He couldn't blame his brother for the ferocious beatings the Tori no Suna woman took, but Kankuro could admit that even his bloodthirsty little brother went a little overboard. Gaara wanted someone to blame for the puppet master's near death and he HAD that person in his very grasp. The Kazekage wouldn't let a prisoner like that off of the hook so easily. No matter how innocent she looked, Akemi Nakahara was a MURDERER. Even though she looked so damn cute with that little flush cross the crests of cheeks.

Wait, what?

Naruto hadn't finished his rant, the words still deafly going through Kankuro's ears. Akemi turned on her heel and began to walk through the door, Kankuro following in suit, his limp preventing him from moving much faster than a gait. He wouldn't apologize. No, that wasn't necessary, but he needed to explain himself. He needed to make this right.

He pummeled himself through the door and sought after the steps of is charge without a word to departure to his brother, sister, or their entourage.

* * *

><p>Naruto stared blindly at the door. What had just happened? He just tried to tell Kankuro to ease up on the girl. That she probably didn't appreciate his disrespectful tone and words. He aimed to be political, practicing his use of big words and lengthy sentences to work on his Hokage-ness. But, something had happened and Akemi darted off before he could even finish with Kankuro following quickly. By the time he tried to stop them, they wree out the door and gone.<p>

"I… I don't get it… I thought I was doing a good job," Naruto muttered, his eyes wide with confusion. "I wasn't too hard on them, was I?"

Kakashi had closed his book, his eye staring straight as his pupil. "It was a good first attempt, Naruto. But, you missed something rather important. Gaara-dono, could you tell me what it was?"

Gaara stared blankly. He had no idea. He had actually believed his friend had done a good job in quelling the situation. After all, Kankuro had stopped and Akemi… Well, Akemi had just done as he had requested of her before; she had been compliant to the berating and did not act aggressively. Whether it was from fear of her hide or something else, Gaara didn't know. He saw nothing wrong about the exchange. He continued to stare.

Kakashi sighed, as well as Baki at this point, a fingers gingerly moving through his tousled hair. "Oh dear… Young kids these days… Shikamaru, did you pick up on it?"

Shikamaru had taken his place beside Temari, his arms crossed with his own sigh escaping his lips. "You did fine Naruto, but you forgot one important thing." He paused, looking towards the swirling sands out the window. "Akemi's a _human_. She was standing right there and you didn't even refer to her as present in the room. Frankly, you didn't either, Gaara-dono, no disrespect." He backpedaled a second at the Kazekage's glare as well as the one from the dangerous woman beside him. _How troublesome._

Clearing his throat, he continued cautiously. "Even though she is a prisoner and has caused you a lot of trouble, that doesn't mean you can treat her like an 'it' or like she isn't even in the room. It's just plain old, outright disrespectful. From what I know of the Tori no Suna, they take respect and pride very seriously. When one doesn't show respect to another person, usually it means that they are extremely offended by the way that they've been treated. You could be their worst enemy in battle, but when a general from their army and yours meet, you can be sure that they will be polite, as no physical foul has been committed against them to seek anger. You don't hurt them, they don't hurt you. Hammurabi's code," he ranted. "Erm, Kazekage-sama…" he drawled, nearly forgetting the honorific of Gaara. Temari smacked him over the head, his face crashing to the floor.

"You talk about honor and respect, and you disrespect my brother, you deer loving hypocrite?!"

"Totally unintentional! I got on a rant, Temari! You know how I get! Troublesome hound!"

"Call me that one more time, you pinapple-head and I swear to Kami-"

"Allllright love birds, easy does it," Sakura growled, grabbing Shikamaru by the collar of his flak jacket and flat palming Temari in the shoulder to separate them. "He forgot for a second. He corrected himself. It's alright, right Gaara-dono?" Sakura gave a pleading smile towards him.

"Aye, he's fine, Temari," Gaara drawled, a palm fisting over his tattoo. Was he really only 19? He felt as if he was eighty at this point in the day. "Point taken, Shikamaru-san. We shall all take it into consideration. Temari, that includes you. Maybe she'll be easier to deal with if she has the respect she requests."

Gaara stood from his chair. "Dismissed. Konoha, thank you for your assistance, but you will no longer be needed here. You may return home whenever you'd like."

"Actually, Gaara-dono, I was actually going to request until we stay until the end of Kankuro's healing period," she stated. "I would be much more comfortable with knowing that he is fully taken care of now than finding out later that he stressed his injuries."

"Permitted," he stated solidly. "I'll send a scroll to Tsunade-dono to let her know of your choice. Will that mean all will be staying?" He eyed Kakashi expectantly. The other three may be jonin and able to care for themselves, but he knew who the real parent of the situation was.

Kakashi nodded his head. "Our mission is to stay with Sakura. If she stays as do we." His single eye crinkled into a smile. "Of course, I'm sure you and Naruto have much to catch up on anyway, Gaara-dono. This hasn't been the quietest of times in the Kazekage mansion, now has it?"

Gaara turned towards the window. The sands had finally quieted, bright blue skies taking over. "That it hasn't, Kakashi-san. That it hasn't."

* * *

><p>Well this chapter is a long time coming! Now we get to the fun parts! :)<p>

I'm currently stuck at an airport in this freezing cold and have plenty of time to write! Stay warm everyone! Please be smart about the weather!

Thank you all for your incredible support! I'll have a new chapter to you soon! I hope you all had a great holiday season!

Love Always,

Epsilion


	8. Sinopia Luxuries

Akemi sped out of the room as fast as she possibly could, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. What an asshole. What a total asshole! She couldn't even think of another curse in her head for the man, she was so furious. He had hit every insult in the book. He called her selfish, conceited, a _monster, _like something that your children would hide from in the night when a branch scratches at your window. A demon from the shadows. Someone that struck fear in the hearts of everyone that had even heard of them.

A tear fell down her muddy cheek. Then that was what she would be.

She felt as if she ran into a force field, the wind knocked back into her chest. There she was, once again, belly up with her eyes facing the luminescent ceiling. Her fist pounded on the ground, teeth gritting as she let the tears flow freely. She hated everything about this place. Every single grain of sand around her, every single _molecule_ of stagnant air; she couldn't stand being here. She would rather die than be locked in this cage of a village surrounded by cliffs. She would rather _die._

Kankuro pounded his feet behind her, his steps heavy and slow. Akemi closed her eyes, rubbing the tears from her cheeks. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She couldn't cry. _No._ Not in front of him. He'd just badger her into oblivion, teasing her for a moment of weakness. She could never. She set her lips firm, gluing them to one another.

"So, this 10 foot restraint thing," he started, both of his hands perched on his hips. "Definitely keeps you on a short leash." He paused for a moment, looking down at the girl below him quietly before sighing. His hand extended over her face. "…Erm, sorry about that."

Akemi flipped herself around, ignoring the hand and stood in front of the man herself. Her eyes were sharp and pointed directly to his, her pupils small and calculating. She rubbed her hands against her murky clothing and flipped her hair as she continued at a slower pace down the hall. Kankuro shook his head. "You're welcome for the offer, I guess?"

They stayed silent as they took corner after corner. They travelled down stairs and through doors, but the windows constantly passed them. Akemi bit the corner of her lip, stopping before a pea green double door. This was the Kazekage's office. How the _hell _did they end up back here?! She continued past it and took a different door and different sets of stairs, but still ended up in front of those dumb, putrid doors. She went down at least six flights of stairs! There was no way that they could be back at the same spot! She huffed angrily. "Alright, what gives?!"

Kankuro chuckled a little behind her before moving forward and tapped two fingers to the door with a feather-light touch. The colors quietly melted into a goopy brown that was even more _disgusting _than the green and finally settled to a steely grey with two porthole windows just above her head. "I just wanted to see how long it would take you. Not bad for not knowing you were in a genjutsu the entire time." He gave her a wry smile, crossing his arms over his chest.

"A gen-whaty-what?" she murmmered, her eyebrows creasing. "What does that do?"

Kankuro was speechless for a minute. The girl knew how to do ninjutsu like puppetry and sandstorms and sand dragons large enough to wipe out a few hundred men, and she didn't know what a fucking genjutsu was?

"You really don't know ANYTHING about being a ninja huh?"

She looked at him dead in the eyes. "I'm not one of you. I never had to learn," she muttered lazily, her fingers trying to separate dried blood from clumps in her bangs.

Kankuro's mind fluttered. Akemi Nakahara knew nothing of the ninja world. Nada. She didn't know what _chakra _was for Kami's sake! The girl learned how to do one of the most complex techniques in all of puppetry ninjutsu simply from concentrating and practice. She skipped so many steps and just sort of _did _it. "Well, it would certainly make your life much easier."

Once she was slightly satisfied, Akemi moved to push open the door, but Kankuro was there before she even had the chance to touch the metal. "Ah ah ah~! Not yet!" he sang out, his warm hand latched around her arm. She pulled it back like he was acid, a heated flush radiating over her cheeks. "Do you mind?!"

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered, a hand ghosting through his tousled hair. "Look, I'm just saying, it would make you so much faster and you'd have better control of that chakra of yours if you at least learned _a little _of what we do. Maybe you could control those puppets enough to not nearly kill yourself too," he said with ease. "Buuuuut, if you're too stubborn to do so, I can't force you. That's not my job. I'm just supposed to keep you safe."

"Aura," she said quietly.

"Excuse me?"

"It's just… Something we call it," she said quietly, her eyes diverting to her bare feet, her short toes curling onto the tiles. "Every person has an aura, something about them that makes them, you know, them. My father and I can manipulate our auras to form strings. We believe that each person's aura is a different color depending on their lineage." She paused a moment, her fingers ruffling along the grimy gown she was forced to wear during her stay in the dungeons. "I mean, it definitely showed. My father and I have gold while others have different shades of blues, greens, reds, whites… That's why we dress in those colors. It's showing respect and praise for our auras; that everyone is different, but we come together to fight as one because we're all passionate about the same thing."

He had liked the idea of individuality. In the ninja world, flak jackets and ninja headbands were an all too common sight. The Tori no Suna never looked the same, each person identifying themselves in a different way to show that they _were _different and not like their comrade. "But, what are you all passionate _for_?"

She averted his gaze for the very first time in any of their entire encounters. "Whatever my father says."

So that was it. She and the rest of the Tori No Suna followed her father blindly, like sheep to the slaughter. Their blind devotion was almost sickening. "That man forces you to kill on command, Akemi-san. You can't seriously just do what he says, can you?"

"You know _nothing,_ about us, Kankuro-san. You know nothing of our hardships. Of what we have to do to survive. When you're outside of these walls, yes, you are free, but freedom comes at a very deep price. You know nothing at all." With that sentiment, the subject was dropped. Kankuro clammed up and let the girl pass.

The sandstorm that had been moving through the area left noting but dry heat in its wake. Akemi pulled her hand up to her forehead to shield her eyes while her guard walked into the sun like Apollo himself. He basked in the sun, letting the rays bounce off of his skin as he shook out his hair. "Aw man, that feels great, eh, Akemi-san? I'm sure you missed the sun just as much as I did," he lounged, his hands cradling the back of his head.

She stayed silent, the gown sticking to her already sweaty body. The temperature in this infernal city was unlike anything that she had ever felt before. There was nothing but fire all around her. Everything was hot. There was no relief in any sweep of air. Everything was stagnant, just like that damned building. The only sign she gave was a groan as she plucked the coarse material from her bruised skin.

"We should _probably_ clean you up before we do anything," he muttered, sending a disproving glance to the girl. She thought the fluorescent lights always gave everyone a horrible, sullen look, but in stepping out into the light, he realized that was just her actual appearance. The girl needed a good shower and maybe a haircut. Kankuro had no clue if all of that dried blood would come out of her maroon tendrils.

She let him take the lead, "Show me the way, oh wise one," she shot, obviously slightly offended by his underlying message. She stunk. She didn't look good. Although she was upset that he had put it in _that_ connotation, she couldn't give up a hot bath and maybe a meal. She could probably eat anything that man put in front of her.

They moved side by side through the village, unfortunately passing through a marketplace on the way to their destination. All activity ceased the second the two of them entered into the main area, multiple civilians backing away in fright. Akemi eyed each one warily while each one in return stared back in a mixture of fright, hate and anger. Eventually, she tucked her head down and trudged on. These people thought she was a criminal, a murderer.

And maybe she was. Maybe she killed a loved one, ran them over dead with her ship. Maybe she caused them enough bodily harm that she crippled one for life, unable to supply for their family any longer. That was enough to be angry with her about. There was nothing in these people that showed compassion or even the slightest bit of pity. They showed full blown hate, and Akemi was alright with that.

A little girl moved before her, staring up at her with dark brown eyes, offsetting against sunny blonde. She had tears at the cusp of her thick eyelashes, her dirty fingers trembling. "Why did you kill my mommy AND my daddy? Couldn't you let me keep just one?"

_Just one. _She moved past the girl. "There's no 'just one' on a mission. You'll understand."

The civilians, in hearing her comment, began screaming.

"MURDERER!"

"KILLER!"

"MONSTER!"

Rotten fruit flew past her head, which Kankuro was able to help her bypass quickly. The man was still pretty slow and grunted as he knocked most of them away. Her arms were wrapped around her head as she started to run. She was a true demon to these people. A foul monster.

"You don't deserve to live!"

She snapped. She turned around abruptly and shouted for everyone to hear. Her fingers were flayed out as she waited for the golden wires to come shooting from her fingers to strangle each and every one of these people, but threw them down when she eyed the black marks on her wrists. "YOU'RE ALL HYPOCRITS, YOU KNOW. YOU THINK YOUR PEOPLE WERE THE ONLY ONES WHO DIED? YOU'RE JUST AS MUCH OF MONSTERS AS I AM." She pivoted on her calloused heel and strode out of there, her head high.

Kankuro was in shock for a moment, as were his people. They stared at her wide eyed as she moved away before gawking back at him. "Aren't you going to do anything about that, Kankuro-sama? She just disrespected our lost ones! She had the opportunity to destroy the village and was going to take it! Aren't you going to punish her? Kill her! We don't need that burden!"

The words flew at him from all angles. He started to walk to keep Akemi in his range and tried to answer everything as best as he could in the process. Before he knew it, Akemi had flown back, crashing into him from behind. She started to charge, but he grabbed her under her chest before she could get her feet back on the ground. She was growling loudly with her teeth bared and violet eyes bulging from their sockets, nearly ready to scream at the men who had decided to take it upon themselves to punish her while he couldn't. Obviously, the bruises and blood on her body meant nothing to them. They wanted their own slice at the rogue.

Kankuro hauled her half a block away from the angry civilians before she eased herself into a simmer, her scapula relaxing into his chest. He plopped her on the ground and watched her knees wobble. Her eyes pleaded with him but those full lips; they were still as stone. "Can we go now?"

He didn't need to be told twice. "Yeah. Let's get going."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

In all of her twenty years of living, Akemi had never seen a building so large before. The Kazekage's mansion was a bit ridiculous with its manicured molding in that disgusting goldenrod/pea soup green combination, but that was the least of her worries. The building expanded at least five stories above the ground with wide floor to ceiling windows.

It was a military mishap; there wasn't anything "protecting" about the place. If this was where the leader Suna and his family was to live, she would have expected stone and mortar lined with expansive walls of hardened sand guarded by dozens of ninja. After all, that was her father's dream. Sure they were living in individual tents and thatched huts right now, but at least there was outside booby traps to ensnare criminals. But, when Kankuro showed her to her room, her entire viewpoint of the place changed immediately.

Inside was a queen sized bed in a rich shade of cerulean, draped in an ivory net. Matching curtains were drawn from the full length windows, allowing the afternoon sun to spill lazily onto a floor carpeted in cream fuzz. The furniture was a dark mahogany, as was the dresser, writing desk and vanity, which held a large mirror and powder bench; a luxury she hadn't ever had back at the home base. There was a bathroom attached to the room as well, along with a walk in closet. She wouldn't have a need for it, but it was a nice touch.

She gave a long whistle. "Wow. You're really breaking out all the stops, eh Make-up?"

Kankuro tightened immediately. "Hey, if it was me, you'd probably still be in that cell. You might be a horrible person, but this is the only room we have available right now. That and you're also a political prisoner, so we have to treat you a little nicer, remember? I don't really feel like sleeping next to you in that dingy dungeon every night until we figure out what to do with you."

Akemi slowly padded through the room, the carpet folding around her toes. If she could imagine walking on a cloud, this would be it. Her fingertips drifted across the mahogany of the dresser, fingering the scratches along the surface. "Whose room was this?"

Kankuro grew silent before stepping into the room himself. He opened a desk drawer and pulled out an old frame, blowing on the dust that had gathered along the glass. He looked at it hard before placing it face down. He turned on his heel and started towards the door. "I'll have your clothes brought up to you. You can clean yourself up. There are toiletries already installed in the bathroom. If you need anything else, just ring. I'll send a maid up."

He stopped in the door jamb for a moment, turning back towards his charge. "By the way, as long as you're here, there's no limit on your walking. You're free to move among the grounds, but the second I need to go somewhere, so do you, you got it?"

And with that, he abruptly shut the door with a click.

Akemi clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Well, she certainly tabbed a touchy subject it seemed. She strode quietly towards the desk and lifted the image that he placed downwards. Her eyes were glued to the dilapidated picture.

It was a drawing; something akin to a snot-covered doodle a two year old would create in school to bring home to place on the fridge. There were odd colors all around with the likes of scribbled green lines for the sky and purple stick figures for the bodies of the people. There was a larger stick figure with a stern face and a smaller with a smile and stripes across his face, which Akemi quickly realized to be her guard. Next to him, he was holding hands with a small blond stick figure with a purple, triangle body, obviously the sand bitch. But beside her, there was another person, another triangle body, but this one was drawn in pink. The eyes were purple and her hair was a mixture of yellow and brown. The artist obviously couldn't decide which color to use. She had a small smile on her face and a purple scarf around her neck.

Under the image was the word "family" in squiggling kanji. The image was torn down the middle, but was mended together by three small pieces of tape. A small "K" was printed in the bottom right corner.

She snuffed. Gaara wasn't even a blip on the radar at the point this was made. Kankuro had made this as a child and someone had decided to frame it; to store it for safe keeping, as if it had value. She flipped the image down, leaving it where Kankuro had placed it before striding away. The guy had some major daddy issues, she knew, so family was probably a fragile subject that she didn't dare to learn about. He'd probably clam up again or just be extremely angry. He seemed to take family stuff a little extreme just like that bitch of a sister he had.

She paused her thoughts. Something clicked. It was _all_ they had.

Akemi had her mother, her father, and her two brothers. The Sand Siblings had nothing but each other. They were leading an entire nation, forced to grow up years before their time while they were still trying to figure out how to make their sensitive unit work for the first time. Sure they loved each other, but for Gaara coming back and learning exactly _how_ to love, Akemi could only imagine how difficult that might have been for the elder siblings. From going to a monster to a brother in a matter of a few days, it must have been difficult for Kankuro and Temari to accept their little brother not only as leader, but truly as their sibling.

She was glad she was never _that_ strained with Taigo. He was a good seed; full of life and a good listener. He would do anything their father said, always serving at his every beck and call, the damned goody-two-shoes. He had dark features like his father with those bright turquoise eyes, but such a small, fragile face, Akemi sometimes forgot he was seventeen and not twelve.

She and Taigo would often train together in hand to hand combat as he had not learned the ways of the Golden Strings, nor was he capable of learning since his aura was red. Although she was older, Tai had a great skill with the long range "meteor hammer", a ball and chain type weapon, and short knives. Tai could crush rib cages as easy as rice cakes with the heavy ball that he whipped like a lasso or he could cut you to ribbons with his switchblades. Akemi had always taken extreme caution when dueling with her little brother, often using her strings anyway to save her own skin.

She would never forget a particular scrimmage when she was thirteen and he just a mere ten. He had hurled his meteor at her so hard, it ricocheted _through_ a rock before she stopped it with her strings, a cold sweat on her brow. He had pouted, "You cheater! If you didn't move, maybe _I'd_ be next in line, you wimp! You take hits from your puppets backfiring all day long, Akemi-chan. Why are you afraid of a little meteor hammer?" To which, she would always respond with a smile and ruffling of his muddy hair, "I'm not doing death blows Tai, so maybe you shouldn't either. Brutality is good, but only too much might freak some people out. Plus, little brother, I don't want to be knocked into another universe without _you_ in it."

She shook the thoughts from her head. She wondered if Taigo was worried about her, if he missed her. She sure missed him. He might be an annoying bugger with no spine, but that didn't mean she loved him any less. They were blood. It didn't matter that they were totally different personalities, he the bright light and she the darkness embodied. She loved him _because_ he was her brother. That was all that counted. It was a simple love.

What was it that those damn Suna kids didn't understand?

She stumbled on weak ankles into the bathroom, which was a slightly better color scheme with rosy mauves and matte taupe. It didn't match her exterior room, but she could deal with it. Her eyes were glued on the porcelain bath tub at the other end of the room. Immediately, she turned up the faucets and let the water run warm, the sensation tingling down to her toes. She found lavender bath salts and placed them in as well before sliding her sore frame under the fragrant water.

The amount of red that spewed into the water was disgusting. She didn't realize that she was so bloody and grimy. She took a damp washcloth and ran the fibers gently over her body, taking care around whip marks and cuts. The dry blood freed itself and dyed her tub a murky shade of merlot. She drained it disgusted and refilled it. After the task was done, she sank down into the clear water and inspected herself for the first time.

She was bruised all over with bones coming across in stark ridges along her skin. Her fingers nimbly strummed across her ribs, dull goosebumps coming over her arms. She massaged her biceps and her thighs, allowing the hot water to soothe her skin. It was absolutely heavenly. She took bath oils and ran them as best as she could through her hair, finding some of the strands too stuck together to undo. She would need a haircut to get rid of the crusty strands of maroon.

Once she was satisfied, she exited the bath to find mauve towels above the toilet. Wrapping herself in the fluffy warmth, she strode from the room and flopped on the cerulean bed with a small giggle. She never allowed herself to enjoy this sort of living before. She had always thought that people who lived in these big houses were just overusing resources, but now that she was living this way herself, she understood why. She never had this large of a room before with such a comfy bed or an attached bathroom. Her fingers ran across the blue silk of the duvet slowly. She could never imagine _owning_ such luxuries.

She turned her head towards the door to find a small package left inside of the welcome mat. Ditching her towel on the bed, she moved completely naked to pick it up. She shook it a second and, not hearing anything, took it to the desk to cut it open with a pair of scissors. Inside were all of her old clothes, as well as a new wardrobe consisting of lightweight skirts, airy, long sleeved peasant tops, sweats, and ninja issued sandals along with tape for binding. There were different colored head scarves also, which would come in handy against the whipping winds. Another, smaller box was below all of all of the new fabric, which he displaced immediately. She found a small card at the bottom of the box of goodies, eying the chicken scratch.

'_Akemi-san, _

_I took it upon myself to go shopping for you to get more Suna-appropriate clothing, as yours are not quite appropriate for either the temperature or the eyes of our citizens. I also inserted head scarves for your convenience, whether you'd like to use them to hide the color of your hair or for more environmental purposes, it's up to you. Enjoy your stay. We'll be watching._

_Temari No Subaku'_

'Not appropriate for the eyes of the citizens'? She eyed her outfit. Her backless sapphire blue keyhole top was slightly torn, but easily mendable. The khaki shorts on the other hand were totally fine except for a few small blood stains along the short legs. Her leather utility belt was completely intact as well, except for her small knives and poison syringes which had been knowingly taken from her to ensure the people's safety as well as the safety of herself. Finally, her feather petticoat that she always wore loosely around her hips was gnarled and bent, most of the multicolored feathers fraying against her fingers. She didn't see how it wasn't appropriate at all. Sure, she had an angled amount of midriff showing from the cut of her top, which was held together by just three leather straps, but the rest of the outfit was pretty tame. Just khaki shorts and shin-high brown combat boots along with her petticoat of reds, whites, blues, greens, purples and gold.

She sighed, fingering the crusted outline of her petticoat. She would need to restring the entire thing. She and her mother had worked so hard to create the damned belt, and here she was, going to have to make the entire thing OVER because they didn't fold it or store it properly. The colors blended into each other beautifully; there wasn't a single seam in the transitions.

When she first put it on, she thought the thing reminded her of a peacock, but she came to like it with her father's convincing. She was royal, She was the only daughter of the Rogue King. She deserved to stand out. She deserved to be respected.

Ignoring the sand slut's warning, she quietly fastened herself into her outfit, sighing into the familiar feel of nylons and cotton against her skin. She tied her belt a little tighter than usual before staring into the vanity mirror. It wasn't too bad. She looked like she needed to eat an entire cow, but otherwise, she felt more like herself. She tied her shoelaces to her boots and wrapped some tape around her wrists to hide the ugly, black markings from the seals. They truly were an eyesore and made her cringe every time she saw them. The less she had to, the better!

She took a silver encrusted brush she found in the dresser and ran it through her hair as best as she could, bringing the knots to the bottom. Finally, she took a pair of fabric scissors and simply sheared the pests off. Her shoulder length hair quickly turned into a pixie cut, as she had continued to cut in trying to make the tendrils all the same length. Sighing, she placed the scissors down, even though she still wasn't satisfied. She would be bald by the time she found a length she enjoyed.

Her stomach growled adamantly, signaling time for that cow that she was supposed to eat. She flittered through the door after dumping the strands of blood-crusted hair into a trash bin.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It didn't take long for Akemi to spot the kitchen. She immediately began to rummage through the pantries of the gigantic space, grabbing everything from lunch meats and cheeses to waffles and maple syrup. She grabbed a fork, knife, spoon and glass of milk, prayed for a moment, and dug in with manners a little less than a barbarian.

She had forgotten what some foods actually _tasted_ like. The sweet tang and crunchy flesh of an apple, the demure mellowness of a soft banana, the smoky flavor of a juicy piece of turkey; everything was old and new at the same time, sending lovely shivers up and down her spine.

She felt every morsel of food slide swiftly down her esophagus before flopping into the pits of her stomach. Each portion that made the journey and reached its destination only encouraged her gorging more, the last piece replaced by another. She couldn't stop. She didn't even falter in her speed when feet were heard trolling down the stairs. "Mhmmm, something smells good. Hey Tema, did you make that cake that was-"

The feet stopped. So did Akemi's mouth. She turned very slowly, her hand grasped around a chicken leg, her mouth filled with leftover mashed potatoes. Kankuro stood at the base of the stairs, mouth slightly open, eyes wide.

There was a long silence. Akemi placed down her chicken leg as if to not startle him and slowly let the potatoes drop down to join the rest of her meal. She dabbed her sauce-stained lips with a napkin before placing it down gently next to her plate before turning back to Kankuro. "Sorry. I was a bit hungry."

He still stared at her, the same open mouth expression. "Akemi-san, did you really…?"

"Yes and I don't regret it."

"Yeah you will. You should have eaten _slowly_ and only a little bit at first. You haven't eaten in three days! Your stomach probably isn't used to all of that food yet. It's going to reject-"

The rogue scoffed. "What are you, my mother?"

Kankuro crossed his arms, his eyebrows knitting in frustration. "Look, I'm just trying to help you out here. I've been living off of hospital food for the past few days. It sucks. It really does. But gorging isn't going to make it better."

Akemi looked down at her feast, nearly three fourths of it already gone. She was heading into the dessert portion with different packages of cookies, cakes and frozen ice cream bars, all three luxuries she never could particularly find or afford. She ripped open a package of brownies, and plopped one in her mouth in defiance at Kankuro.

The puppet master sighed, pulling his hands behind his neck. "Fine. Suit yourself. Don't ask me to hold back your hair when you start… Hey, you cut your hair?"

One the package was all but full, Akemi let her fingers graze the top of her botched pixie cut. Her let the tips of her fingers run over the healthy ends, twisting them to a point over her forehead. "Yeah, I couldn't get all of the blood out," she murmured, her eyes dark.

Kankuro's jaw softened. "Look, I'm sorry. I know girls have this weird attachment to their hair, so that was probably pretty hard on you. I mean, even _I _thought it was pretty when I first saw it, and with your Narcissist complex, I can only imagine-", he trailed, spying her clenching fingers.

Akemi glared. He stammered with a blush on his face. "I'm not saying that it looks _bad_, more like, uh, different! Just, I wasn't really expecting you to look like _this_, I mean, you're hair's still pretty, it's just in a different way and I, uh…"

"Hold up," Akemi motioned, the puppet master's lips flopping like a guppy. "You said the same thing twice."

"What'd I say?"

"You said my hair was pretty."

Kankuro blanched. Did he? Did he say it was? He certainly had always _thought_ so, but would NEVER say it aloud to the rogue. From that first fight with the Tori no Suna girl, he couldn't help but mesmerize himself in the way that the dark red tendrils glittered against the sand, the radiance of the hue offsetting the jewel toned blue of her top. Even when it was grease covered and smeared with blood, her hair had depicted a painting in his eyes, the depths of the shades of red bouncing off of his retina like a trampoline. But, just because he thought so didn't mean he actually _said _it, did it?"

"I do not recall such a sentiment," he replied honestly. "Although, now that you mention it, from an artist's perspective, it is one of the most brilliant shades of sinopia I have ever seen."

She looked at him crudely, at the smile on his lips as he leaned against the banister. She had never even _heard _of that color before. "…Are you sure that's a color?"

"Absolutely!" he said, as if offended by her lack of knowledge. He took a seat diagonal to her, placing his hands on the table. "Come on, every great artist should know that one! Sinopia is a red-brown color that originated as an undertone for frescos. Naturally, the shade is a bit lighter than your hair," he paused. "But, according to some, the darker the sinopia, the more beautiful the fresco." He laughed for a moment, standing from the table and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Of course, then that would turn into Venetian red, but I don't think that's your color either. A Venetian-sinopia blend? Indistinguishable and unnamed by any man."

With that sentiment, he began his journey up the stairs. "By the way, Akemi-san, we're heading back to see Gaara at nightfall. Apparently, your Daddy-O had already sent something in regards to you. If you're going to yak, I suggest you do it _before_ you leave and not on Temari's shoes. Just a warning." The door shut behind him and all was silent.

Akemi had lost her appetite, the cakes before her now looking more vulgar than she remembered them to be. He told her she was beautiful; at least, in an artist's perspective. That didn't necessarily mean that Kankuro held feelings for her, right? No. He had simply told her that she was pretty. There was no way that the man that she had nearly killed had any feelings for her other than extreme hate and malice. _He had better not, _she thought, an annoying bubbling reverberating through her tummy. _I'll kick his ass harder than I did before. I can't have some sand brat on my tail._

The rogue started to clean her things from the table when the bubbling in her stomach turned into a sizzling wave of nausea. She grunted in frustration, cursed Kankuro's name, dropped her plates into the sink and bolted up to her room without even closing the door. She hurled all of her stomach contents into the porcelain throne, the stinging in the back of her throat a reminder of her once delicious meal and the pretty ridiculous bile that had spewed from the puppet master's mouth minutes ago.

She was getting too soft; letting something like a man's words get her nervous enough to throw her bowls into a sewer system. She couldn't stay here much longer. Hopefully her father had something better in store than just letting her rot away in this fucking place.

0o0o0o0o0o

This chapter brings in the start of my next semester at school! Make sure you leave me a few comments and reviews! I love love LOVE reading what you guys have to say about this! Continue to be the most amazing people you are!

Until next time!

Epsilion.


	9. The Change

Kojiro gave them an offer.

It was simply actually: just your standard prisoner exchange. The deal? Akemi for the Scroll of the Red Sand. No tricks. No gimmicks.

He had seen village after village pull stunts like this before, many failing because of faulty ambush plans, but that wasn't his case. All he wanted, truly, was to return his daughter under his control. He could immediately recoil and attack the second she was next to him. That is, if she was in a decent condition. Akemi would take control the moment she was back on her home turf. Her army would rise behind her and strike down the foe before they even had a moment to move.

Kojiro had made sure that he prepared his eldest child for the horrors of prisonership. If either of them had come under the hand of the enemy, such as now, they had patterns and maneuvers ready for an immediate attack the second the exchange went underway. It was simple. Akemi would be free, move half way and immediately attack with one of the many puppets Kojiro had meticulously planted under the sands in her absence. It would wipe the entire enemy convoy out in one fell swoop.

Kojiro sat with a steaming cup of tea in front of him, reviewing many of the documents Taigo was able to snag from the four Suna intruders. Akemi would be so full of rage from her captivity, she most surely would recoil with sadistic greed against her captors. She couldn't disobey her father. What kind of daughter would she be in the first place? He had taught her better than rebellion against him. She knew what came with disrespect.

His eyes skimmed over words, many of them letters from loved ones back home, others about upcoming events like festivals and crop gathering ceremonies, even an invitation to a wedding between the Kazekage's sister and some Konoha shinobi which seemed to be a big deal. Kojiro smirked. If only he had been a few years younger, he would have tossed Seka to the winds and taken that broad to be his in a heartbeat. Kojiro had a secret thing for blonds and the Kazekage's sister fit his dream type perfectly. Only, he had heard about the silver sharpness of her legendary mouth and he wouldn't be a fan of her insubordination. He might start her training by silencing that tongue before it could cut him too deeply. That would be the most secure maneuver.

Taigo entered the tent without much noise, his scarred biceps glowing pale pink in the afternoon sun. "Any response from Suna, Father?"

"Not yet, boy," Kojiro retorted, his lips curling around the lip of his cup. "Not a peep. If they don't respond soon though, I might have to head over there myself to check what the hold-up is."

Taigo made a grunt and sat at the opposite end of the table, his legs crossed beneath him. "I don't understand why you won't just send me. I'm just as strong as Akemi is, even without the Golden Strings! You know that I've improved in my training! You've seen it first hand when I defended the village from that running-rogue group last week! I didn't even need any help!"

Kojiro placed his cup down and readjusted his position, stretching his back in the process. His eyes dug deeply into Taigo. "I'm not losing you to this brat of a Kazekage, too."

Taigo bowed his head in submission, whether it was from disappointment or resentment, Kojiro couldn't tell. The boy's hands were on the table, his fingers shaking in quiet fury. "Why must you insist on treating me like a child all the time, Father?"

"Because you are!" Kojiro raised his voice, his hands slamming on the mahogany of the table. "You forget that's you're only sixteen, Taigo. You haven't even lived half of your life yet."

"You let Akemi start running the army at fifteen!" Taigo shouted angrily, his pretty face contorted. "She was younger than I am now, not to mention a woman! If women are revered so dearly around here, why would you let her take such a dangerous position, especially your only daughter?!"

"You want to grow up too fast, Taigo. You've seen what fighting has done to Akemi, but you haven't seen anything compared to what triggered her to become what she is today."

He turned his back towards the boy, eyeing the map posted in the back of his tent. He sighed quietly.

"She leads for a purpose, Taigo. I broke her before she could become anything that I didn't want her to become. And by the Gods, she will fulfill the purpose I have for her if it's the last thing she does, are we clear? She's the only one who can accomplish it. You have no place in this equation, my son. You aren't to speak of leaving for her again. You will remain here."

Taigo was stunned into silence by his father's blunt words, stood numbly and flitted out of the tent nearly as silently as he had come.

0o0o0o0o

"_Papa! Papa, look what I found!" Akemi ran towards Kojiro, her chubby legs waddling as fast as they could towards her father. The older man scooped up his daughter, planting wet kisses along her hair line. "And what have you found_,_ my little dove?"_

_Her sausage roll fingers pulled out a violet flower the same color of her eyes with curling petals of soft velvet. She tucked the flower behind his ear, the softness rubbing softly against his stubbled sideburns. "Auntie Junko helped me pick it out from her garden! Isn't it pretty?"_

_He balanced the toddler on his hip and pulled the small flora from his head, spinning the arrangement of petals between his calloused fingers. "Do you know what this is called, Akemi?" The babe shook her head, her eyes wide with curiosity._

"_It's called a cyclamen," he responded quietly, his eyes locking onto his daughter's dark red hair. He placed her on the ground and got down her level, squatting low in the sand. He ran his fingers through her silky strands, the thin fibers clinging under his nails. "It means 'goodbye' in flower language."_

_The little girl peered harshly at the flower. "Why would she give me one that means 'goodbye', Papa? Is she leaving?"_

"_I don't think this was directed to you, Akemi-cha. I believe you to only be a messenger," he muttered, his turquoise eyes darkening. His breathing was heavy, each lung-full expanding his rib cage. His blood pounded in his head. "This flower has another use other than saying goodbye, my dear. Do you know why people around here grow so much of it?" His voice shook with anger. Akemi had heard that tone before when she had snuck into his office and colored his papers in red ink. The black wasn't a Tori no Suna color… She thought she had done the right thing. She just wanted to make him proud in noticing his mistake. _

_Akemi shrunk back a little, her brows creased with worry as she spied the groves of purple around many of the tents and adobe huts in the area. "N-no?"_

"_It's fed to __**pigs**__," Kojiro growled standing immediately, his large hands covering the entire range of the petals. The velvet crumpled in his hands, each petal falling towards the sands below. He strode off towards the arboretum._

_Akemi stood speechless, fingers twitching towards the broken petals._

_0o0o0o0o0o_

Seka was busy tending to her youngest son, Sozen, who had just decided it would be the right time to roll around in a pile of crop soil to hide from a neighboring farmer.

"Mamaaaaaa," he whined, trying to worm away from the warm cloth that Seka was using to wipe him down. She grabbed his chubby arm and furiously rubbed the skin until it was red. "You did this to yourself, Sozen-kun. Next time, _think _before you decide to roll in dirt and track it through the hut, hm? I can't let you go to bed full of dirt!"

The boy groaned outwardly and tried to take it as best as he could, but each swipe of the harsh material burned against his skin more than his flush of embarrassment. Of course, all of his Mama's friends just had to be in the tent when he came stumbling in too… Did she _have _to do this in front of a bunch of giggly, smiley old women?

Taigo came into the tent and eyed Sozen, smiling into his hand. "Someone's a little nakie, eh Sozo-chan?"

"STOP!" Sozen screamed, doing his best to paw his mother away from his skin. Now _Taigo_ was here!? This day couldn't get any worse for the tot. He felt tears sting at the corners of his eyes. "Can't we go to another room, Mama!? Why here?!"

"'Public humiliation teaches wrong doers the punishment of wrong-doing', isn't that right Taigo?" Seka said monotonously, continuing her scrubbing under Sozens fussing. Akemi and Taigo's tantrums came nothing in comparison to this kid's. She could deal with both of them in each hand. With Sozen, she needed four extra limbs.

Taigo had only smile and moved towards his mother, sitting at the small rug behind her. His turquoise eyes locked onto the back of her bright red hair. He thought about his question, took a deep breath, and let it fly. "Mama, what broke Akemi-chan?"

Seka nearly dropped her cloth. Her movement stopped and her hands slowly released Sozen, who took the opportunity to immediately scramble for his discarded pants with a blush on his cheeks. He darted into another room with the giggles of the many women following behind the curtain.

"She's not broken, Taigo-kun…"

"Father said she was broken. I don't understand. She never seemed broken to me before…" he trailed off. She knew he was egging her on. All of these Nakahara men seemed to be keen on that. They knew how to get information from their women. Even her nearly angelic son was becoming corrupted by his father's views. Her boy was no longer 'her' boy. He was _his_.

She placed her face in her hands, her rings cool against her burning skin. "Out," Seka said exhaustedly. The women's giggles quieted, unsure of what they heard amongst their chatter about Sozen's adorable bottom. "OUT," she commanded with authority, each of the women standing and immediately leaving the tent with a shuffle of feet. Seka never enjoyed raising her voice, but she needed space. Her 'friends' could never understand main family business.

They weren't permitted to understand anything about her or the inner workings of her family. Kojiro would strangle them with his bare hands if rumors started. Seka had seen it happen before.

Seka felt her pale hands shaking under their skin. Her fingers grabbed at the edges of her sleeves and pulled the pieces of fabric over her palms.

"Why do you want to know now, of all times Taigo-kun? This is a heavy time for all of us. Akemi-isn't broken."

"But, Father said something to me," he began cautiously as he slowly stood to face his mother. "Something about her growing up too fast. Something about fulfilling a purpose." He was silent for a second as Seka held a pregnant breath. "You know something, don't you Mother? Is that purpose… Is that what broke her? Did she crack under the pressure?"

Seka closed her eyes.

"No… The pressure cracked under _her._"

_0o0o0o0o_

_Kojiro had found Junko in her beloved arboretum and threw her quickly out into the central square of the village. His pregnant wife, Seka had been visiting her older sister at her home when he stormed in without a word, grabbed Junko by the hair and nearly flew out the door with the screaming woman dragging behind him. The twenty year old did her best with her small, swollen belly to run after them, but found the stress induced was nearly impossible to deal with. She had to slow her pace as she screamed after her husband, a hand grasped under her stomach._

_Akemi had come up from the square with the remnants of a broken flower in her hands, fat, rolling tears covering her grimy face. The pour girl quibbled about Daddy crushing it with his big hands after he said "pigs ate those kinds of flowers". Seka moved as quickly as she could with the toddler on her hip, the sound of ceremonial chimes ringing through the air._

_A Summoning of the Birds._

_Seka sped past the crowd already forming and into the circle, spying the frightened eyes of her older sister in the iron grip of her husband. She froze. There was nothing she could do at this point. Seka allowed the tears to drift into the corners of her eyes, but did not let them fall for the poor woman. Junko was under his control now. There was nothing she could do. Absolutely nothing. She was the good wife. She was the good wife._

_Akemi fussed in Seka's arms, yelling "no!" over and over again until she put her down. The toddler bumbled over to her father and tugged on his lower limb, pulling desperately on the leg of his shorts. "No Papa! No!"_

_Kojiro stared coldly at the child. His large hand came down, picked the girl up by the front of her shirt much like a lion to a cub and placed her behind him. He pointed a dirty finger at his daughter, his turquoise eyes burning. "Sit. And watch. This is what happens to those who disrespect Papa, Akemi. If they disrespect you, you will learn to deliver this same treatment. Watch very. Carefully." He drew strings of gold to his fingertips and braided them together like a whip. It cracked menacingly in the air with violent electricity after every braid was slowly bound together._

"_Seka, __**please,**__" Junko pleaded, the woman stretching forwards towards her little sister. "You can't let her watch this! Cover her eyes! Take her away! Take her away!"_

_Akemi's eyes knit in confusion, but she plopped her chubby legs on the ground and sat. She watched, her violet depths deep in concentration on her father. _

_Seka couldn't bear it. She turned her back as her sister yelled her name, begging her to cover the child's eyes. Seka gritted her teeth, listening to the tearing of cloth and the screams of her sister. She clenched her teeth at each hit that reverberated off of the punished woman like rattles of thunder. Each strike was teamed with an anguished scream. The air had grown stagnant with the smell of iron. No one breathed. _

_The crowd was silent, smiles wide, watching the brutal beating of the herbal woman who had healed many of their sick and wounded. She had always been kind and courteous to her patients. Junko, the woman with the hair spun of gold and the eyes as deep an indigo as liquid lavender, now with blood as red as her sisters hair streaming in rivulets down her back and arms. A woman of respect was now brought to her knees by an iron fist._

_It excited them._

_When the sounds stopped, Seka had turned towards the abused; she spied her sister sprawled on the floor with deep lacerations etched into her bare back and across her face. Kojiro took the now naked woman by the jaw and lifted her from the ground, spitting in her face after suspending her limp form in the air. "Never. Return. __**Pig**__." She dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes and remained still as he strutted away. Caws were heard around the circle in approval of their leader's decision before the bodies dispersed back to their duties._

_Akemi had sat wide eyed the entire time, her face now grotesquely covered in gore and ichor from her close proximity. She was taking shaky breaths, each one a rattle in her small lungs. It was all new. All so sudden. Someone who she thought the world of was just beaten to a pulp by her loving Papa. Her Papa had done this. Her __**Papa**__. She smiled, an immense sense of pride swallowing her features through her tears. Why was she crying?_

_Seka didn't look at the pile of skin her sister was rendered to again, and instead, turned towards her baby who still sat in child-like awe. She was looking at her sticky fingers, eying the blood crusting onto the side of her maroon bangs. There was something on her face that Seka couldn't put a finger on; something that didn't seem natural for her sweet child. She scooped the baby up in her arms, placing desperate kisses along the edges of her head. Then, she heard it._

_A soft giggle. The coo of a dove._

0o0o0o0o

"A trade? That's it?"

Temari sighed out loud, flipping the paper upside down and turning it from front to back. "All it says is 'Prisoner exchange for Scroll of the Red Sands. Have my daughter in top condition.' Not even a location where the exchange will take place…"

"That's on your terms," Shikamaru muttered. "Kojiro-sama doesn't care about anything other than getting his precious heir back. He's showing a form of submission, which probably wasn't easy for him since he normally has one hundred percent control over all situations. He's giving you the option to choose the place and the time, because his life and legacy is in your hands, Gaara-sama. He's realized he's in a bad spot and wants to show cooperation. Many rogue villages do this kind of thing when in a rough spot. The Tori no Suna are powerless without their commander at arms."

"I'm standing right next to you, you know dumbass?" Akemi muttered under her breath, her arms folded with her fists balled. "No need to act like I'm not in the room…"

Shikamaru shrugged his shoulders. "My bad. I forget you're here sometimes, pipsqueak. It's unintentional since you're, you know, short."

She growled out loud and stomped her foot, temper flaring. "WHO'RE YOU CALLING PIPSQUEAK, SPIKES?!"

"Caaaaalm yourselves," Kakashi soothingly quipped behind his mask. "Shikamaru-kun, what did we talk about? And Akemi-san, we need you to focus here. Would your father use any sort of coding in his messages? Any sort of hidden messages?"

"No. He's pretty blunt in messages. He has nothing to hide. Why should I tell you if there was, anyway? I should make you all work for it thanks to Spikes over here," she gritted through her sharpened canines.

"Stop Akemi, you're acting like a child," Kankuro muttered, a hand on his forehead. "You_ know_ why you have to help us here, right? Do I have to say it out loud?"

No he did _not_. She knew she would be violating all of Gaara's rules if she didn't comply with what he said. If she didn't do what he told her to…

She shuddered. "No… But what I'm saying _is_ the truth. Father doesn't beat around the bush when he's trying to get something he wants. He'll be very blunt so there's no confusion. Also, I'm pretty sure Spikes is right on the submission thing. Father is at a loss of military prowess without me." She snorted. "He doesn't know how to run an army full of half assed warriors. I made them all who they are today. It was _my_ training that made the squad leaders who they are. They might be loyal to my father, but they are only going to follow _my_ lead. I earned my position. He was born into his."

Gaara eyed her quietly. "Are you saying there's some sort of insubordination among them?"

"No. They're absolutely loyal to Father. He just doesn't know how to run groups of people without running spears through them and puppeteering them himself," she said lacksidazily, "Little marionettes; each villager is a living puppet that he's learned to control..." She grew silent. Her fingers twitched.

When was the last time she had even thought about her puppets? About creating another human puppet? The last time she did, the poor thing was crushed under Taigo's meteor. It was a pretty kunoichi from Iwa that had happened to stumble upon their small village, dying of an infected wound. All Akemi had to do was wait for the woman to pass before she set immediately to work. She didn't even have to move the kunoichi from her death bed. She just started her work right in the infirmary.

She had transplanted every single hair from her head and placed them into identical follicles on her new skeleton. She even took the liberty to even mark the skeleton with her already apparent scars from years of battle wounds since they looked just so _perfect _on her lithe body; like they belonged (plus, it would a sign that the puppet was hers; the amount of scars on that woman was truly mesmerizing). She had reminded Akemi of a small cat; strong, yet exceedingly lithe with piercing golden eyes that, even in fever, glowed with intelligence and some accounts of mischief. She made sure to capture that essence in her paint job.

Afterwards, she had dressed the woman in traditional Tori no Suna clothing, full of feathers, leather and soft fabrics. When she had used her in sparing for the first time, the woman took to her strings like a plant to water, moving with every bit of feral grace that she had imagined. She had named her "Kuikku"; Quick. It had to have been seven years since her creation. She hadn't made another since. Her first human puppet was her first masterpiece.

"Akemi-san?" Naruto piqued, his azure eyes wide with concern, a hand hovering over her shoulder.

"Erm, I'm okay," she sheepishly replied, shirking away from his grasp. "I, uh, started remembering something my father said, and I just realized how dumb it actually was," she snorted, a nervous giggle sprouting from her throat. The jinchurriki seemed to believe her and threw a megawatt smile in her direction.

"If that's the case," Gaara continued, his elbows perched on his desk with his hands over his lips. "Then we will send a confirmation to Kojiro-sans offer. We shall wait for you to get better, Akemi-san, since you continue to refuse treatment, and will get this underway. It is a win-win scenario to both parties: your father gets what he wants, and we get what we want.

Akemi nodded with a small smirk on her lips. It was perfect. This Kazekage had to be the stupidest human she had ever encountered. Did he mistake a father's pain over a lost daughter for genuine actions? It seemed so.

She didn't notice a sharpened gaze resting on her form.

0o0o0o0o

"What were you thinking of back there?" Kankuro said quietly as they walked through the village. It was night time in the now quiet village. Many of the civilians had retreated to their beds while their constant shinobi guardians perused the nights silently. It had to be near midnight at that point. "I know it wasn't about your father's teachings. I saw the look on your face. You were recalling yes, but it was a fond memory by the way your lips had curled into a smile; not some quote unquote 'dumb lesson'…"

Akemi looked over her shoulder towards her guard and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know _what_ you're talking about, Kankuro-san. I was just telling your dear Kazekage just what I knew. I have nothing to hide."

"Bullshit. You have _everything_ to hide."

Akemi averted her gaze, crossing her arms over her chest in the chilly night. "I can tell you that it's nothing that concerns you. I was just…" She drifted off, trying to bring the words to her tongue.

"Do you remember the moment when you decided that you were going to do something with this world? That you realized that you wanted to change something about it? That you had to change it with your own hands?"

Kankuro looked towards the bright stars, his hands hidden in his pockets. "I never had anything to change. My father, the Kazekage before Gaara, had made sure of that. It was all that I had ever known. Now that Gaara's here, I realized that things _do _change, although sometimes I'm not particularly fond of it." By that point they had reached the Kazekage's Mansion. "I'm _still _not used to his damned rules about the prostitutes… Raising their rates… Who does he think he is?"

He opened the door for her. She didn't move. "If you had nothing to change, why did you become a ninja?"

Kankuro's silhouette sagged its shoulders. "I never had a choice. Eventually I found something to fight for; something to create my ninja way upon. It all made sense when I recreated my bond with Gaara." He paused. "I'm here to protect those close to me. I let too many people through my grasps before. I swore to myself that I would never let that happen again."

He moved past the door, keeping it wide open. Akemi followed into the light without another word.

She soundlessly closed the door behind her, padding slowly behind the man who immediately set forward towards the kitchen for a beer. Cracking open the tab, he plopped down onto the couch, pulled out four white pills and dry swallowed them followed by a swig of the alcohol. The rogue grimaced leaning against the door jamb. "Are you supposed to do that?"

"Probably not, but what that pink haired hellion doesn't know won't hurt her, right?" He smiled like a cat at her. "Besides, I get so _relaxed_ when I take it like this… it's almost blissful. Kind of like before you came here, brat."

"I don't appreciate your jokes, Kankuro-san. Personally, I think I've been pretty angelic compared to how I usually am." She plopped down next to him and sank into the cushions. "I just wish I could train or something… it's so boring now a-days…" She implied. And it was true.

She was recovering slowly but surely, but all she could do was sit around in her room and try to play with the odd lengths of her hair that stuck out of her hair like duck fluff. She had seen Naruto eying her the entire meeting that night, nudging Kakashi and asking dumb questions like "is it gonna stay like that" and "is that her natural hair color"; even adding a comment that "it suited" her. Temari had eyed her up and down in approval of her new hairstyle. It was change. It wasn't her.

She hated her hair change nearly as much as Kankuro hated the new prices of his prostitutes.

"Hey Kankuro, I'm going to the roof, okay?"

A snore responded. Her eye twitched. _Shit. That stuff works FAST!_

Before she knew it, she was atop the flat roof of the adobe home, the cold wind aiding the goosebumps on her tanned skin. She simply sat on the edge of the building, breathing in the cool, dry Suna air. Her feet dangled over the edge of the roof, her hands and bum the only thing keeping her grounded from falling eight stories to her death. How simple would it be to just lean over and end it all? It would be so peaceful, having the wind blow past her hot skin. She could imagine wings sprouting from her back, full of different shades of blues and greens. A few days ago, she could have hit the jackpot.

Now the only thing she was thinking about was hitting the ground.

She could see over the tops of the houses in the city, the different levels all still and quiet in the night. Some had flickers of lights and candles, but most were blending in with the overwhelming darkness. The world was stuck in a painting. Her blood on the ground would be an unwelcomed sight in such a masterpiece.

It was quiet and peaceful around these parts. The ANBU didn't dare to scope around the Kazekage's place specifically on Gaara's direct orders. She had overheard Temari and Kankuro saying that they were all too curious of Akemi and that some might "accidentally" try to run a blade through her chest. Apparently she had caused much more damage than she could have imagined if she was able to anger emotionless ANBU. She had many enemies around these parts.

A faint whistling was heard over the wind after being accompanied by the repeated sound of scratching talons. She closed her eyes and smirked. "I was wondering when you'd find me, Papa."

Turning her head, she spotted a small bird of jewel toned blue with flat orange around its neck like a collar. Attached to an equally orange leg was a slip of parchment tied by a golden thread of aura. She slipped her nail between the knots and let the energy release, a signal to her father that she received the message. She unfolded it quietly and read it over.

_Activate in two months after wedding. Stay Strong, little dove. _

Akemi shooed the bird with a clenched fist, its small wings fluttering into the shining moonbeams of midnight. She had to be wary. She had to be aware.

She tore the pieces of paper into bits and blew them into the cold night air.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Temari tangled her lips with her fiancé's in pure, unadulterated greed. Shikamaru wrapped his calloused fingers over her exposed back, taking in as much of her as he could as _quickly_ as he could. Temari and Shikamaru had spent nearly every night of the past week together and neither party had any complaints, but their time was short. Most nights, Temari snuck in at different hours of the night, the tactician easily able to maneuver around the many Konoha ninja's sleeping patterns. His fiancé had duties to attend to early in the mornings and Shikamaru had to make sure the place was spotless before Kakashi, Naruto or Sakura came banging on his door. Finding a pair of women's panties on the floor wouldn't look very good for a man of his ranking, even if they were his soon-to-be wife's.

She moved her kisses down his neck, her hips gyrating slowly into his. All he could do was smile and run smooth circles over her scapula, simply enjoying the ministrations. He let his shadows from their cages, the moonlight serving as the perfect conductor of his infamous jutsu. The arms snaked around her body, each finger fingering at the chiffon of her night shift. The material flipped to the ground with an unnoticed thud.

Shikamaru looked over the gorgeous woman perched precariously over his lap. Her skin was the color of salted caramel, her hair the color of fresh spun straw, and those _eyes._ The bright, clear teal drove him absolutely insane. His hands ran deeply over the curve of her waist, up to the perks of her breasts and kissed her furiously. Her throat made the most delicious moan as his thumbs ran over her pert nipples, giving each bud a gentle squeeze.

"Hey Tema?"

"Mhm?" She captured his lips again, beginning to tear at his mesh shirt with rabid fingers.

He flipped Temari under him, letting the uncharacteristic squeak from his wife-to-be carry into a fit of giggles between them. He buried his face into her neck sweetly with a smile, his lips ghosting off of her throat; her cheeks; her eyes; her forehead; her lips. He discarded his shirt the rest of the way and allowed her long fingers to dance over the ripples of his stomach.

"I love us," she muttered blissfully, a happy smile running all the way to her eyes.

"I love _that_," he responded, sinking his head to leave a long, lingering kiss on her nearly bruised lips.

"Love what?"

"You're smile. You don't do it as much anymore. Scientifically, there's nothing more attractive to a man than a woman with full lips and healthy teeth. You have both. Show them more, will ya?"

She sighed quietly beneath him, her hands groping around his biceps with a gentle squeeze. "I would if I didn't worry for Kankuro and that _woman_ so much."

"She's not going to bother him, Tema," Shikamaru insisted. His fingers brushed a stray strand of dirty blonde from her forehead. "She's on her best behavior. You of all people should see that."

"That's the thing that's scaring me, I think," she muttered quietly. "They're so alike when she's not trying to bait us on or fight back. They both want changes, but don't know how to respond to them. She wants a change in leadership. He wants a change in his _life_. Kankuro has the opportunity for that change. He has meaning again, to fight, but she's getting between him and Gaara. Have you seen the two of them recently? They've been arguing nearly every second their together because of her. They're going to just end up ki-"

A pair of lips closed over hers. She melted into it, letting herself relax into his being. Shikamaru's voice came huskily into her ear; a deadly whisper. "Less talkie. More sexy."

There were no words between them from that moment on; only hungry hands and scorching libidos hot enough to make the Devil sweat.

Neither would have it any other way.

0o0o0o0o

It seems that I can't write ShikaTema without some sexy time every time they're alone… Oh well… it's a dream!

Thank you to all who reviewed! I love your criticism and your responses! It makes me more motivated as a writer when I receive feedback, so it you like it, throw me a message! I read all of them, even if I don't get the opportunity to respond!

I've gotten a few questions about Taigo's personality and his role in all of this. He's rather dry, but trust me; he's going to get _way_ juicier!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'll have the next one up soon (hopefully!)

R&R

With love,

Epsilion.


	10. Naked Trust

The morning of the wedding was a complete disaster.

Temari had fire in her eyes waking up to the sight of a gigantic zit the size of a small ostrich egg on her face. She cursed out loud, screamed at her mirror, paced the floors enough to put a scorch mark in the carpet, and none of her bridesmaids could do anything to calm her. Matsuri did her best to ease her mood with kind words, but only ended up making the commander's eyes well up with tears. Luckily, thanks to a nifty medical jutsu, Sakura was able to somehow bring the swelling and redness down to a manageable level and the huge crisis had melted into a problem that only a little make-up couldfix. Akemi was grateful she didn't have to deal with a bridezilla and thanked her lucky stars for the Konoha medic.

Akemi had grown slightly attached to the woman since she had decided to cut her hair. It was like the second that she had it shed from her shoulders, the more open the woman was in trying to understand her and to get to know her not only as Akemi Nakahara, but as a friend, which still confused Akemi. Going from the most sadistic torturer Akemi had ever faced to a distinguished figure whom she respected in a little over two weeks absolutely blew her mind. But, as long as Temari wasn't beating the shit out of her and showed her the respect she deserved as a commander in arms, she could forget a few past offenses.

Besides, they didn't even scar badly enough to be considered a marking.

They weren't best friends or even had a 'sisterly' bond, but 'acquaintances' was a pretty good start. At least Temari didn't call the rogue 'bird bitch' under her breath anymore.

Temari's bridesmaids helped her into her snow white yukuta tied off with an exquisite lavender obi lined with silver butterflies. Temari had told the rogue that her mother had worn the exact same one to her wedding nearly twenty five years prior. A small, matching butterfly pin was placed in her straightened, shoulder length hair; the only decoration that she could decide on wearing other than her engagement ring. Temari was a goddess, the white offsetting the glow of her naturally tanned skin and sparkling eyes. Her tickled pink lips were all smiles and Akemi couldn't help but feel a spring of happiness coil in her chest at the sight of the blond.

She had always loved weddings. Her friends back home were all married by the time they were fourteen, some to the same man. Though the incestuous situations disturbed many, Tori no Suna ceremonies were always so joyous; the distresses upon the matters were always soon forgotten. Ritual marriages were full of dancing and singing and beautiful colors; the women were draped in cloth of their aura color and the men dressed in handmade feather capes to match the woman. They wore ceremonial paints along their faces and hands, the woman's in swirls and flowers with the man's in more geometric formation, but somehow, however wild they looked, they always blended together perfectly.

Akemi always dreamed of doing a traditional dance next to a man, their jeweled hands and bodies swerving in and out of each other like snakes. It was tradition to have the left hands always bound above the dancing couple's heads. It was a sign of fidelity, a promise, to the future; to be bound hand in hand in all decisions for the rest of their lives. The amazing thing? No matter how barbaric the Tori no Suna seemed compared to Suna, no one had ever violated that promise.

Ever.

Even her mother was involved in the ruling of the growing community. Most of the time, Kojiro went directly to Seka and asked her opinion on a situation, even though her decision held little to no weight ever.

At least he kept his marital promise. Akemi couldn't say he kept many promises other than that.

The Sand wedding itself with barely a hitch. Many ninja from Konoha and Sand showed up for the ceremony celebrating the new bond, including Shikamaru's best friends and his mother (his father was unable to attend, for a reason that everyone but Akemi seemed to know). Gaara was able to preside of the ceremony with the help of the Fifth Hokage, Tsunade, who guided the young Kazekage through a very _tense_ ceremony, much to the chagrin of the groom. Gaara wouldn't let any part of his glare veer away from the Nara heir, his fingers tight against the holy book in his hands.

Kankuro had decided to ditch the face paint and went totally bare to his sister's nuptials. Well, more like Akemi told him that he would look like a fool if he did. "It's a ceremony, not a war zone! You'd fit right into my people, but I'm almost positive your country doesn't work this way, ne? And what about your sister? She would be so embarrassed of her little brother! You don't need to scare people with that nasty make-up of yours, now do you?"

"It _will_ be a war zone if that bastard tries anything on Temari, he'd be happier if he died," he had mumbled in response, but ditched the kabuki brush on his dresser and scurried behind her to the ceremony.

The relationship between Kankuro and Akemi was tense on occasion, but was mostly filled with jests and playful banter. Kankuro was fully healed thanks to the Konoha medic, but Akemi was still on the mends. Her bruises had all blended into a mellow yellow/green mix, but some of her bones were still quite bruised and sore. Her newest scars on the joints of her shoulders were still a raw pink, looking like diseased holes in her tanned skin. Kankuro tended to "accidentally" bump into her on multiple occasions, leading to sufficient hissing since the wounds were still quite tender. Of course, it was all in good fun for Kankuro, since he still wanted to enact a little bit of revenge on the rogue. If she was in his custody, why not have a bit of fun?

Akemi had dressed herself in the traditional Tori no Suna jewel tone azure that she always loved to wear. Her dress was a halter top, knee length shift that clung to her thin frame where it should; a traditional Suna formal dress. Of course, she added her own Tori no Suna flair with a newly redone feather belt in a cooler color palette, a halter string replacement piece made of dried boar leather and had cut a keyhole opening at the top of her chest to show just enough to leave a man wondering. She decided that the idea of the open back held by two leather straps would probably give some more elderly wedding goers a heart attack, so she decided to go with the daring ensemble anyway. She paired the outfit with two dangerous looking silver rings that glinted against her black chakra blockers.

But, then, of course the rain came.

Just as Shikamaru was about to take Temari officially as his bride, the sky opened up to a monsoon; the one day a year that it decides to rain in Suna. Temari sat there, water logged and in disbelief, cursing at the sky; at her mother, at her father, some woman named Chiyo and a slew of other relatives that Akemi had recollection of hearing about once and a blue moon. Shikamaru ceased her fury by scooping her into his arm and planting the big one to seal the deal as the rain fell from the grey clouds. A kiss that was incredible enough to make that woman shut up was something that Akemi _had _to see again before she died. Temari was all smiles, even with rivers of eye makeup streaming down her face.

The reception, at least, went much better than the ceremony. Kankuro had a bit of liquor in his system, which made him much easier to deal with. Akemi knew the reason for the liquor-up: the reluctant congratulation of the bride and groom. Kankuro had immediately run away after the exchange, a cup of sake placed in his hand by Gaara. _What a wingman,_ Akemi could only ponder, her short leash pulling her away before she could offer vocal congratulations. All she could do was offer a small wave, which got Temari and Shikamaru laughing. _At least Gaara and Kankuro are in this together. They're both going to be blasted tonight…_

Akemi and Kankuro spent most of the evening chatting with the Konoha shinobi, although one long haired blonde with ice blue eyes was so drunk, she was basically giving Kankuro a lap dance while trying to chat with him. Akemi couldn't suppress her giggles.

"Ino-chan, I'm not drunk enough for this…"

"You weren't even drunk last time, lover-boy," she had slurred in his ear.

He shooed her ways like a bug. "Shows what you know, you overbearing woman!"

Akemi held a delightful conversation with the heir of the Hyuuga clan, dressed in a light pink yukuta that offset her lavender eyes. She was a small girl with a large chest by the name of Hinata who had many questions about her culture and seemed truly intrigued in all that she had to say. Akemi found it a bit hard to open up to her at first with her soft voice (something the Tori no Suna frowned upon), but quickly found herself spewing tradition after tradition of her people. The endearing girl soaked it all in like a sponge.

"You have so much freedom, Akemi-san," the girl muttered quietly, her hands grasping around a cup of water. "I could only imagine what it's like."

"There isn't nearly as much freedom as you think, Hinata-sama." Her hands wrapped painfully around her bonds, her fingers tracing over the skin gently. "I'm caged right now for the sake of my people after all. It's because of our leader's will that I'm even in this situation in the first place."

"For the sake of-"

"HEEEEYYYYY HINATA-CHAAAANNNNN!"

A large hand slipped over the girl's shoulder eliciting a small gasp and cherry red blush to brush over her cheeks and shoulders. "N-Naruto-kun! Stop that!"

"Ehhhh, what do you say, Hinata-chan, huh? How 'bout a dance, huh? We can't let Sakura-chan and that Teme get away with this, right!?"

Akemi gazed past the jinchuriki to find the medic in the arms of a dark haired stranger in a blue and grey yukata with a white and red fan emblazoned on the back. As if feeling her gaze, his onyx orbs turned to lock onto hers. She could have sworn she saw shades of red flicker across his pupils, but he turned back to the woman in his arms too quickly for her to make sure.

She returned her sight to the heiress who was already half way away from the table. She gave a small smile and a simple wave before falling into Naruto's arms at the sound of the music.

Akemi gave a small wave of departure, but felt herself tugged up as she noticed Kankuro no longer at the table. Thanks to the alcohol impairing his awareness of her chakra bonds, he probably forgot he was even attached to her; either that, or alcohol made the bonds longer. She followed the leash to an open courtyard where she found him sitting on a bench, his head between his knees. She smirked and made her way over, her heels clicking on the pavement. She wrapped her shoulders in one of the shawls Temari had gifted her in her first days of arriving and sat down next to him.

"Not drunk enough, or too drunk to realize that you're too drunk?"

"The second one," he slurred, another bout of vomit coming through his throat. She can tell he tried to painfully choke it back in her presence, his cheeks bulging just before he lost it again. Just like his pride.

"Alright buddy, let's get you home, huh?" she said softly, letting her voice take on a more motherly tone. She rubbed his back soothingly as he finished emptying his stomach, the violent heaving slowing to just heavy breathing. She extended a hand towards the man, who took it thankfully. He swayed as he stood, his breath reeking of alcohol and vomit, but Akemi couldn't blame him. If Taigo or Sozen had gotten married, she would probably be in the same situation. He held her hand loosely and strode back into the facility with a blush of beer streaked on his cheeks.

Akemi found the bride chatting with a few of her bridesmaids from Konoha after plopping Kankuro back down at his table. "Hey Temari-san? I'm going to take your brother home… He's not in such good shape right now…"

Temari giggled in response. Akemi could see the small pink tinge of drunkenness on her cheeks as well. "I can see! Seems like he liquored himself up to forget this ever happened." The girls around her laughed whole heartedly. "That's Kankuro for you. Anyway, thanks for taking care of him, Akemi-san. He should be the one caring for you, but if a man can't hold his alcohol better than his woman, then I wouldn't want to be associated with him in public either…" She eyed her expectantly.

"What? OH! Oh Temari, I don't drink! I'm fine!" she sweated out. "You remember what happened when you took me out the first time right?"

"How could I forget? You were dancing on the table and singing at the top of your lungs! You tried to get the waiter to kiss you too! I know you're on your best behavior, I'm just teasing ya! Just make sure _he_ stays on his... He gets sick kinda fast…" Temari took another swig of her sake. Akemi groaned.

"Well, goodnight Temari. Enjoy the married life! And congratulations," Akemi shouted behind her as she made her way back for Kankruo, scooped him up under his arms, and sped out of there without even a final goodbye to the Kazekage.

"Why're we movin' so faszt?" Kankuro slurred, his feet dragging behind him. "What's da rush?"

"You're sister's the rush," Akemi muttered. "She said you get sick easily! I'm not letting you puke in the road."

She got to the Kazekage's Mansion in record time and immediately set Kankuro to bed. "Thank you Ka-chaaaaaan~," Kankuro had sung to her as he laid down on his futon. "Can Kanky-kun get a kissy kiss?"

"In your dreams, motherfucker," she had responded with a smile, shutting the door behind her. She sat behind it for a few minutes until she heard his loud snores reverberating from the walls. With a content sigh, she picked herself up from the ground, cracked her neck and made her way back to her bedroom.

When she entered, Akemi quickly discarded her beautiful blue dress and belt to be banished to the side of the room under the balconette window. Once stark naked, she kicked off her shoes and allowed them to join the rest of her outfit. She lay atop the silk comforter for a few minutes, arching her back towards the sky in a stretch. Like a lanky cat, she allowed her body to roll back up to a seated position with her hands in her lap.

It felt so nice to stretch after a long day in a constricting dress and heels. Akemi had to learn to how walk in the infernal things since she had never stepped a single _toe _in a shoe with a heel before. Akemi had stretched morning and night in her freedom of home, practicing her kata at the sun's rising and setting without fail every day. Now that she was stuck in this place, she hadn't even thought about it once thanks to Kankruo's hectic schedules of sun rise to late night government work.

The moon was high in the sky at this point in the night, which meant everyone in the area should be either ready for bed or already snuggled into their sheets. Akemi opened her curtains and her floor to ceiling windows wide to show the stone balcony overlooking the city walls, allowing the silver beams to streak through her window. She smiled. She always loved the view from this damned room, even if it did act as a pretty cage. This was the only thing she loved in this place. Looking over the rooftops, she was a bird of paradise; she could stretch her wings and _glide._ It was breathtaking.

She strode over to her wardrobe for a change of clothes, but ended up eying her canopy bed instead. She grabbed her shearing scissors before she did anything and hopped atop the bed, standing on her tiptoes to snip the fabric hanging from the ceiling. Trapped beneath the gauzy material, she floundered her arms like a flopping fish, ending up falling off of the bed and smashing her face into the floor.

She felt the blood almost immediately, feeling the heat radiate to her face in embarrassment. Good thing Kankuro wasn't in the room, because he wouldn't _ever_ let her live that down. As she cleaned herself up in the bathroom, she wondered why she imagined that Kankuro would be in her room in the first place. After all, here she was stark naked after a long party and he was too drunk to even think straight. They were dirty, tired, and sweaty; surely he wouldn't want to stay with her? _Or maybe we could shower together_ a part of her thought. It would definitely make the experience more enjoyable; nothing like two dirty humans getting clean with the help of another person. Bodies covered in fragrant soaps, rough wash cloths on skin, fingers combing through hair... She quickly shook the image away, a flush on her cheeks. There was a tingle in her stomach that lingered for a few moments, causing heat to spread over her chest and shoulders. Where did _that _come from?!

She needed to clear her mind. She needed to purge herself of the drunken, abusive puppeteer with the calloused hands that would be oh-so-heavenly on her tingling skin.

She rapidly cleared a space on her floor. She pushed her writing desk up against the wall and moved the small receiving table against her wardrobe. She stood centered in the window, allowing the cool breeze from the night to envelope her skin in a thin sheet of cold air, closing her violet eyes. Her arms moved slowly, her body arching in curving with the beams of light around her. Her legs followed slowly, her deep breathing expanding her ribs and clearing her head.

She followed through movement after movement, her muscles tight against her skin and her eyes shut in concentration. Over time, she increased her speed of the movements and began blending the different kata together. She felt as if she was dancing; as if her arms were her wings and her legs just followed behind like they were meant to. Her mind disappeared into numbers, her breathing following suit like warriors to the beats of a drum.

But slowly, her knees began buckling, her balance faltering. She collapsed to the floor in a fit of tangled limbs, her forehead ricocheting off of the floor with a crack. She couldn't even extend her arms to brace her fall. Her hands shook violently to her shoulders as she repeatedly slammed her fists into the ground, her tears soaking into the carpet beneath her.

She was so _weak_. This place was killing her; sucking her of all the life she had. Weeks before, she would have been able to do that kata cycle without even blinking an eye, repeating it over and over in midday's heat without so much as a sigh. Now, in the cool night, she couldn't even finish it. She couldn't even build up the energy to save her naked body from crumbling into the carpeted floor. She couldn't even find the will to try to _escape_. She was alone. She was frail.

She was no longer Akemi Nakahara, princess of the Tori no Suna, master of the Golden Strings, commanding general of the Avian Horde. She was Akemi Nakahara, prisoner and sacrifice for the greater destruction of a country she had no love, nor no hate for. She was a tool. She was broken.

She should have flown from the roof those many nights ago.

She swore she heard the bedroom door click closed as she fell into a restless sleep on her carpet.

* * *

><p>Kankuro awoke slowly the next morning, drool sticking to the side of his face. Somehow, someway, he ended up asleep on his futon last night. He thanked his lucky stars that there was no one in bed with him, especially that Yamanaka girl. He wouldn't think his sister would ever let him hear the end of it.<p>

He sobered up slightly with a stretch. His sister was gone from their home forever, stolen by that Konoha kid. Of course, she would still be living in the village, but it was customary for the married siblings of the Kazekage to move from the mansion and find a place of their own to start a family. Temari was going to be in a small home within the walls of the Suna, but it still seemed like a world away compared to being just around the hall. She wouldn't be there to wake him up from his drunken night's escapades anymore. _Well, what a bummer…_

Kankuro pulled on a pair of sweats, not bothering with a shirt, and moved down the stairs to the kitchen, which was eerily still. He had assumed that Gaara has already gone to the office, which wasn't surprising. A Kazekage's business was never done, but a captain's could be on occasion. Akemi, on the other hand, still wasn't awake, which the puppet master _was_ surprised about. Normally, the rogue women had accomplished all of her tasks before Kankuro had even brushed his hair.

Kankuro threw a few eggs onto the skillet and mulled over them somberly. Maybe she was meditating? Maybe… Maybe she was hurt? Had his alcoholism knocked her out through the chakra bond? After all, he knew Akemi could NOT hold her alcohol. Did he get her so drunk, she couldn't even make it to bed and she passed out somewhere?! He felt sweat brim at the corner of his temple. He just had to make sure. He had to make sure he didn't actually _kill_ the poor girl through his own selfish whims. His feet flew him up the stairs faster than they had ever carried him before. Soon, his fingers gripped at the handle and twisted slowly, peaking through a crack in the door.

She was lying on her side, her face towards the window with a singed bicep pillowing her head. Kankuro got an ample view of her bare back, her ritual scars twisting like ivy over her tanned skin. His eyes drifted from the tops of her shoulders, following the line of her spine down to the small of her back, past her rear and down to those long, silky legs caressed by the ivory carpet.

He flushed. She was butt naked, passed out on the floor. And there he was, staring at it all like the little pervert that he was.

A hand shot over his eyes, the heat of his cheeks burning underneath his eyes. _Oh no. She's HOT, _he whimpered in his mind. He had seen enough fine bodies in the past to know exactly just what a gorgeous figure the rogue had. Just a glimpse of that incredible musculature aided by the mystery of each swirling scar on caramel coated skin lead him nearly biting his fingers, his forehead flushed. He tried to shut the door as quietly as he could, sinking to the wooden hallway floor.

Kankuro recollected his thoughts. Alright, what did he just see? There was a girl on the ground. She was asleep from what he knew, totally bare in front of an open window._ An open window._ Why was the window open in the first place? His eyes snapped open, regaining his composure. Did someone open the window to sneak in? Was she actually… Dead? Was there blood on the floor by her bed?

His heart stopped. Kankuro bolted back into the room as quickly as he could, shutting the windows without turning to face the girl. He heard an immediate rustle along the floor and a shrill gasp. "W-what the hell, Make-up?!"

He continued to face towards the windows, the sheer curtains barely obscuring his vision. He didn't want to turn to face her. "I was worried since you weren't awake before I was. When I saw the windows open and you lying in the middle of the floor with the blood next to the bed, I immediately thought someone put a hit on you and took you out. Sorry for being cautious, Akemi-san." He snorted out the last part. On better behavior or not, she still was just as brash as ever.

Akemi crossed her arms over her chest. "Look, you can stop staring at the window, you perv. I heard you peep in before. Your heavy breathing could wake the dead, freak." She waltzed over her drawers, pulling out a pale green Suna frock and threw it over her head, belting it securely around her lean waist. She didn't bother with binding anything; there wasn't really anything _to_ bind. Akemi had been blessed with a small chest, so she rarely went with bindings unless she was disguising herself as a man. She placed her hands on her hips. "Seriously Kankuro-san. I'm dressed."

Kankuro turned his head to make sure she was telling the truth before coming back to a full frontal. He wasn't wearing a shirt, so his leaned muscles were showered by the early morning sun. His hands dug into the pockets of his sweats as he started to leave without a word. Akemi let her eyes wander up and down his back, his muscles moving together like a stalking jaguar's would. Her eyes just happened to rest on his butt when he stopped to turn back towards her. She didn't hide her eyes from him. "Hey, if you snuck a peek, I think it's only natural that I do too!" She winked at her guard and flounced into the bathroom.

As Kankuro closed the door, the flush on his cheeks was unable to be tamed. The smell of smoke wafted up to his nose. _A… Fire? _Yeah, maybe it was from the fire he had in his crotch right now. Kankuro went back to his deduction skills. Alright, what was he doing before he came upstairs. Making a hearty breakfast of fruit, oatmeal and… eggs.

He smacked his head, running down the stairs. _Way to go, baka, _he thought to himself, turning off the burner and opening the kitchen window. _Worry about your prisoner, burn your breakfast_. As he slid them onto a plate, he only imagined that the eggs were small, lithe hands and the plate was his body. The warmth of the eggs on a cold plate; he shivered. There was something severely wrong with the puppeteer. Severely, severely wrong.

* * *

><p>"So, where are we off to today?"<p>

The rogue moved next to Kankuro with child-like wonder, eyeing different stands full of different wares from food to jewelry as they passed through the central marketplace. Unnerved by their awkward confrontation this morning, Akemi was waving to small children who giggled and waved back in response while their mothers and fathers quickly pushed them along, away from the menace of the Sand. Kankuro grabbed at her wrist and dragged her along, the redhead pulling back from her stupor immediately. No matter how friendly they got, Akemi still couldn't stand him touching her. Now, she didn't yell or fight back, but she always changed her "aura" to something a bit more sinister at every touch.

"If you'd pay attention for once, maybe you'd notice," the puppet master muttered, leading them to an older, rundown building with shuttered windows. There was no door. Akemi gave a bewildered glance at the building as Kankuro undid the genjutsu on the old building to reveal a door with a porthole window. He pulled out a key, turned the lock and opened it quietly. He moved inside quickly and Akemi followed suit before the door shut and disappeared with another genjutsu behind them.

The room was completely dark other than from the few strands of light flickering through the top of windowed skylights. She could tell the ceilings were vaulted, but other than that, she had no sense of dimension within the room. It could be as small as her hut back home or as large as the Kazekage's mansion for all she knew.

A dull light was lit, which triggered other lights to glow in return. Akemi's jaw dropped.

Filing from wall to wall in neat, little rows and dropping from the ceiling were puppets.

They were in every corner of the room, except in a small space where Kankuro kept a working desk and light carved into the wall. There were ones which were large, small, females, males, animals, creatures, objects; some were richly painted, others weren't quite so finished. All of them were beautifully crafted with skill, their limbs hanging perfectly from their mechanical joints.

Akemi walked beneath the scattered limbs, still mesmerized by the sheer amount of corpses hanging from the sealing like lynched warriors. It was an incredible sight. "Am I in heaven?" she asked in awe under her breath.

"If heaven is my workshop then yes," Kankuro laughed out. He took his seat in his wall cubby and removed his headgear, rubbing his painted eyes carefully from sand. "I sure hope heaven is something like this; I don't think I would actually mind it then."

Akemi continued to walk amongst the puppets, running her fingertips gently along their cloaks of velvet and cloth. Her hands lingered on one; a small child-like puppet with red hair and a hole in its chest. It looked damaged, although the pinwheel razors sprouting from its back were dripping with a creamy, golden liquid. She eyed it warily. It looked so familiar. Her fingers unconsciously reached out and stroked the substance, the thickness rolling over her skin in a fiery heat.

She heard wheels spin and immediately felt wood around her chest, lifting her away from the area of the puppet. She whirled to find a female puppet with hair as orange as fire and a deep purple kimono pulling her back, Kankuro at her helm. "Don't touch that one." There was no sugar coating to his voice. It was as stern as steel, his tone a warning.

Akemi didn't budge anymore on the topic. The fire in her fingers had extinguished. There was nothing but frayed skin left on her fingertips. _Poison. _It was made of an alkaline solution which was the reason for the burning, but it had ended so quickly; normally poisons like that should be extremely potent if they were to be effective in battle. She frowned. Either he was playing with the solution on that one or it wasn't necessarily meant for a quick kill. She let it slip her mind.

"Why did you bring me here, of all places?" Her voice drifted quietly as she sat on the floor, her fingers rolling in the dust of the wooden panels. "To torture me? To remind me that I'm useless no matter how comfortable I get with you? I mean, aren't you afraid I'm going to steal something or figure out how your puppets work?"

Kankuro stood silently for a moment. He actually DIDN'T know why he had brought her to his workshop. He had no idea at all. It just so happened that he wanted to work and, since both were artists, he thought she would appreciate being in a place of art and not stuck in a stuffy building. He only shrugged his shoulders. "Take it as you wish. I just thought you would rather be here than stuck in the house. In regards to you stealing or peeping into anything you shouldn't, I have eyes all over this place, Akemi-san. I wouldn't worry about me, when you should absolutely be worrying about yourself."

He sat down again in his chair, pulling the fiery puppet onto his desk and opening the kimono with gentle fingers. The fabric was made of one of his mother's old kimonos, so he wanted it to be as pristine as possible. This one wasn't to be used in battle; this one held sentiment. He based the entire puppet around the kimono, letting the orange bounce against the purple in a streak of bright colors. This one was meant to stand out. It wouldn't be a part of his Secret Black techniques. He would never forgive himself if he even _stained_ the fabric.

Akemi was doodling dust circles, making different patterns of circles and waves. He eyed her small fingers painting into the floor, a sketch of a bird with a large plume of feathers and decorative tail. There were lines coming from beneath its talons, stretching out underneath its beak and out towards the sky. He sighed.

"Look, I know this is against the rules," he drawled, his brush dipping in tarnish. "But, if you wanna make something, go for it; I trust my abilities and you enough in this place to at least allow that. Only, no weapons; I only want to see a marionette. I'll inspect it afterwards to make sure it's clear."

Akemi came up from her drawing at his words. He was letting her… Build? To create? To make something with her own hands against Gaara's orders? She knew he was breaking all kinds of rules, but in an artist's workshop, there are none other than the artist's themselves. Gaara didn't matter here. She was an artist and he was an artist; he was opening his shop to her as a mutual puppeteer, not as an enemy; as a creator and as a colleague.

She stood in her spot, eying him quietly. She let a soft smile grace her full lips that shone all the way to her violet irises. She gave a deep bow. "Kankuro-san… Thank you." She felt her throat choke up. She couldn't say anymore. A tear slithered down her cheek as she slowly rose, prancing off to collect materials.

He smiled. That was the first time she actually meant it.

* * *

><p>Ridiculously sorry this is coming so late! There's been a lot to do and not nearly enough time to do it!<p>

Remember! Comment, rate, favorite, watch and spread the word! Thank you all so so so much for your support! I read every message!

Xo Epsilion


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